A Motive for a MuggleKilling
by Bill Birdbittle
Summary: Percy Weasley has been asked to investigate a wartime murder, but with no motive, he's coming to a dead end. Both he and the victim's daughter are looking for a way towards healing. They won't find it in each other, but in finding the truth.
1. Under Investigation

**A/N: I do not own rights to the Harry Potter series and I do not make money from this. **

**This story takes place in the summer after DH, probably around July 1998 or so. If anyone finds any cultural errors (references to British Police, British Churchgoers) in this chapter, please let me know so I can fix them. **

**Chapter 1: Under Investigation**

"One green tea, ma'am."

Audrey glanced up from the notepad in her hands and stepped forward to take her drink. Turning, she surveyed the shop and chose a small table for two beside the window. It was 3:12, and there was no sign of the man she was supposed to be meeting. She rushed here, afraid she'd be late, and now he wasn't even here.

He has three minutes, she told herself. Give him three minutes.

She sat and put down her books. University was a pain, but a necessary one. She often had to remind herself that she was paying for this, ergo it had to do her some good at some point.

3:13.

"Miss Bones?"

she looked up, surprised out of the mess of equations and physics problems running through her head.

The first words to her mind were 'fire', and 'round'. A man was looking down at her through thick round glasses, his hair a startling shade of flame-red.

She rose. "Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes Madam." They shook hands, and he sat. "I must apologize for my tardiness." He began.

"No, you're not late, you're actually in time." She assured him.

"I usually prefer to arrive precedent to an interview." He informed her, and straightened his glasses, returning to business. "Now."

"You wanted to talk to me about my father's murder." She said bluntly, staring across the table at him.

His eyes met hers from behind his glasses. "Murder, miss?"

She felt a bitter, sick feeling rise in her stomach. They were going to dismiss the idea of homicide. But it was murder! She wanted to scream. He was in perfect health! He was murdered! Never mind there was no evidence. She swallowed. "There were a lot of very suspicious things surrounding his death...it was never likely he just...died."

He shuffled some papers in front of him. "Yet the official report states that he died of natural causes. Heart failure?"

"That's what the official report says." She said dully. He was another suit, another bureaucrat, another stiff man giving her unsatisfactory, half-formed answers. She would have to go home and tell her mother, watch her face fall as they both realized that out there in the world there breathed a man who would never suffer for the one life and two hearts he had destroyed.

"To which anomalous circumstances are you making reference, precisely?"

She blinked at his word usage and replied, twisting her fingers together in her lap. "Well, he'd never had heart troubles before. He was in good health. He didn't even have chest pains. It was very abnormal."

"And nothing more than that?"

She glanced up at him a little defensively. "Well, his death itself was...strange. I saw the body. No one had touched it or moved it yet, and he was..."

"He was..." He gazed at her, surprisingly patient for someone who didn't believe it was a murder.

"He was all stretched out." She said. "If he'd had a heart attack, he would have been in any position. But as it was, his face...his eyes were wide open, and his mouth was wide open, and he was lying stiff, and...at attention..." She could remember it vividly. As if he'd just fallen over backwards while screaming. His hands at his sides, his legs together, lying on his back, staring eternally at the flickering lights of the bakery's ceiling.

Mr. Weasley was scribbling something down.

She could just hear it. Delusional. Obsessed with homicide. In need of mental care.

His eyes came up. "Did he have any enemies?"

"No. He never made enemies. He was friends with everyone. Everyone..." She rubbed her neck faintly.

"Can you think of any reason that someone would want to kill him?"

"No."

"Perhaps, the restaurant's money? Perhaps someone wanted to burgle the establishment, and he refused to give them permission?"

"No." She shook her head. "He knew his life was worth more than money. And he would've given them whatever they wanted to save a life." She said. "He always worked for people..." Her mind was spinning.

"Was there any blood at the scene that you saw?"

"No."

"A weapon?"

"No."

"Any wounds or marks on the body?"

"No."

"What was the cause of death as determined by the autopsy?"

"Unknown." She admitted softly.

"And the police report?"

"Natural causes unknown, but most likely a sudden heart attack."

"But you don't believe it." His tone was firm now, no longer questioning, as if he were summing up their little session.

"No." She was drawn out of her reverie. "No, I don't." She glared him down, aware that he was nearly finished and he hadn't probably learned anything new from her.

"Miss Bones." He said, pushing up his glasses and leaning forward, "Did your father have any sort of secret life that you were aware of? A secret past, mysterious nights out, unanswered questions...anything at all you can think of, ever in your life?"

"No." She said firmly, knowing she was sealing any chance of him opening a homicide investigation. "He didn't have any secrets from me or my mother. I believe," She added, "I believe it was a spur-of-the-moment crime."

"One which was executed so flawlessly it leaves no trail to follow." He mumbled, flipping through some papers, not even looking at her.

She felt a hot flush rising to her face. How dare he, this pristine ginger moron who knew nothing of pain, how dare he dismiss her and her father. A man was dead, a man who ought to have been alive. Did he have any idea what that meant?

"Try losing your father and then getting pummeled by the police, and see what you think then." She snapped at him, crossing her arms and leaning back. "I was under the impression the case was being re-opened."

He ignored her comment, making her angrier, and confirmed her remark. "It is. It's under my jurisdiction now, I'm just going to be talking to all those connected again, collecting their former statements, and closing it as soon as I come to a conclusion."

So easy. As if they were machines and not humans who were remembering painful pieces of their lives. "I see." She said. "So it's not really under investigation."

His eyes came up and met hers again in a serious manner. "I assure you, madam, I completely intend to investigate this to the very fullest of my capabilities."

She gazed at him, arms still crossed. "Good."

"He was an absolute swot." Audrey threw a hand towel down on the counter. "He thought I was bonkers. And he kept using all these big words. 'I assure, you, my lady, I fully intend to examine the anomalous circumstances of this pecuniary investigation.'" She mocked.

"He's only doing his job." Her mother replied softly.

Audrey glanced over at her, feeling intense sympathy. Lucy Bones had taken the news rather well, considering that there was a murderer running loose somewhere with her husband's death on his hypothetical conscience.

Silence reigned.

Three firm, efficient knocks fell on the door.

The two women looked at one another. "Who would...?" Her mother wondered.

"I'll get it." Audrey pushed off the counter. She crossed the front foyer in stocking feet and reached for the door. It swung open to reveal...glasses and hair. Audrey blinked.

"Mr. Weasley." She said abruptly.

"Miss Bones." He greeted her. "Is Madam Bones in residence?"

She blinked again at his word usage, finding it almost cute (coming from a stiff), and bobbed her head. "Yes, she's here. Please, come in."

"I hope I am not suspending your meal plans. I'd intended to arrive prior-"

"No, no, not at all." She interrupted eagerly, letting him in. He was in fact holding them from their fresh made lasagna, but she and her mother would gladly sacrifice many meals to get somewhere, anywhere on the case. She led him through the kitchen and into the breakfast area. "Mum, this is Mr. Weasley, he's working Dad's case."

"Detective Weasley. Lucy Bones. Tea?" Her mother had been as surprised as she, but pulled it off well with the air of a cook and hostess.

"Yes, thank you. And please, it's Mr. Weasley."

"Not detective, or investigator?"

"No, ma'am." He hesitated, glancing between the two of them. "This is case is not under the jurisdiction of the police, it's...er, been assigned to a special department for temporary reinvestigation."

Audrey glanced at the back of his head as she poured the tea. Special?

"I just have a few questions...it won't take long." He flipped open a file and shuffled through papers. "Madam Bones, what do you believe was the cause of death of Michael Bones?"

"The official police report said it was likely a heart attack."

He rubbed his eyebrow, squinted, and sighed. "Madam Bones, please answer the questions precisely as I ask them. _What do you believe_ was the cause of death of your husband?"

Audrey looked at him with surprise as she set down his tea.

"I..." Her mother was equally put off. "I believe he was killed by...someone. Maybe an accident. I certainly don't think it was natural."

"And why, may I ask, is that? What supports your conclusion?"

"Nothing." She said fearlessly. "I have no evidence."

"I did not ask for evidence." He said, looking directly at her gray eyes. "I simply ask, 'what?'"

They had answered the questions so many times before.

"Well..." Her mother glanced at Audrey. "I'm sure Audrey told you. They body placement was odd. There were no signs of distress, nothing he might have knocked over in a heart attack. And his health-he always took excellent care of himself, never any trouble with his heart or anything else..."

Mr. Weasley was scribbling again. "And did he have any secrets that you are aware of? Ever, at any time in your marriage? Personal, political, financial...?"

"No, no, and no. Never. Michael was a good man. He always told the truth."

"What was his religion?"

"His religion?" Her mother echoed incredulously.

Audrey raised her chin and studied the man. What did religion have to do with anything?

"Well, he was a...a Christian. Non-denominational. We all are."

Weasley scribbled quite a bit there for a long moment before raising his head and pausing. He seemed to dislike the next question. "Did he ever get into an argument with anyone about faith, religion, spiritism, morality, ethics, paganism, or..." He coughed slightly. "Demonism?"

"No." Both women echoed together, faintly after a pause.

"What about friends or acquaintances who were involved in radical or open faith, religion, spiritism, morality, ethics, paganism or demonism?" He ran down the list as if he had asked the question many times.

"No."

"Excuse me." Audrey cut in for the first time. "What does this have to do with...anything?"

"Just checking all the avenues, Madam." He said, almost robotically. A cut-and-dried suit bureaucrat, that's what he was, she thought. Well...maybe not. No one detective she'd spoken to had ever brought up religion before. Or demonism, either for that matter.

He looked up at the two of them again after a moment. "This afternoon, your daughter said he had no secrets at all from either of you. I am going to ask you again, to confirm with absolute certainty that that statement is true to all of your knowledge."

"It's true." Her mother said. "Michael was not involved in anything...covert."

He paused, wrote nothing more, and raised his head. "All right. That will be all for now."

"For now?"

"Yes, Madam." He looked up at her through his glasses.

"Wait." Audrey cut in again. It had been so short...she had known such things to drag on hours, and he seemed to know already everything about it. He seemed to know already what the outcome would be, an attitude that did not bode well in her mind. "Why exactly has the case been reopened? I mean, why is it special?"

His brown eyes cut back and forth between them. He again hesitated, the way he had before the question about demonism. At last, he reached up, took off his glasses, and squeezed the bridge of his nose as if to stay away a headache. Once the horrible things were off, she was surprised to see dark circles hidden beneath his eyes, and she was suddenly aware that he didn't look so good. His eyes were brown, she noted, a deep brown. He abruptly replaced the glasses and resumed his businesslike manner, leaving her uncertain as to whether he had been trying to elicit sympathy and get them to stop pestering him, or whether he really had a headache.

"Madam Bones. Your husband's case has been brought to the attention of certain eyes because of certain characteristics in it's nature. We...wish to investigate it further, and close it as soon as possible. Though our inquiry may at times seem rather unconventional, we ask that you be patient and compliant and allow us to perform to the best of our ability. If our labours are conjoined our probability of success will be much greater."

She stared at him, ran his answer through her head, and realized that he had simply spouted off a whole lot of nothing at her face.

"I'm more than willing to help in any way I can, sir, but I only ask that we be told what's going on." Her mother said calmly, and Audrey wanted to squeeze her hand.

Mr. Weasley looked between the two of them. "I'm afraid most details are confidential. What I tell you will have to be kept between the two of you. Any further disclosure would lead to detrimental consequences."

"I understand that."

He snapped his notepad shut. "Copacetic. I shall inform you further when the necessity arises." He stood quickly, no doubt eager to escape the clutches of what he must have viewed as two pitiful, weepy women in the depths of mourning. Audrey rose with him, disappointed at his sudden exit.

"Thank you for your time." He said.

Both women murmured their own thank-yous and Audrey saw him to the door. "Good luck." When he was gone, she leant her head against the door when it closed after him.

What on earth?


	2. Getting Nowhere

**A/N: Just want to mention that the fact that Audrey's name is Bones has no relevance. She's not related to the wizard Boneses; I didn't even realize I'd chosen a used name until afterwards. I also apologize; this chapter is a little short, consisting mainly of filler information. **

**Thanks for the (first) review, Schwan!**

**Chapter 2: Getting Nowhere**

Percy climbed the steps to his building and pushed open the door wearily, passed the front desk and mounted the stairs to his second-floor flat. Once inside, he tugged off his Muggle tie and jacket and tossed them aside, flopping down on the couch to spread out the contents of his charmed suitcase.

No leads. No leads at all. No sign of...of anyone.

Who was Michael Bones? He'd answered that question. He was a pastry chef at an upscale French restaurant in London. He was a hard worker, a faithful husband, and a loving father. He was, by all accounts, a good man.

So why in the name of Saruman's knickers was he dead? And who had killed him?

Percy shut his eyes from the papers spread out before him and ran over the case file.

Michael Bones was a muggle. He had begun working at an upscale French restaurant in London called Chez Madame's for many years now as a pastry chef. He had a wife, and one daughter.

On January 13th, 1997, the restaurant had closed at 10:00 as was usual. Most employees had left between 11:00 and 11:20. Michael had remained behind after the rest to clean the bakery. At around 11:30, a manager had returned to the restaurant after discovering she had left her fellytone behind. She had found Michael Bones stretched out on the floor of the bakery, dead. No wounds, no signs of struggle, no weapon or blood. No signs of forced entry. Nothing amiss.

His daughter had identified the body.

There was no definite cause of death. There was no motive. There was no evidence that helped him form a definite conclusion

He growled in frustration at the papers staring up at him. _Avada kedavra_, they seemed to scream. Of course it was Avada Kedavra. The medical examiner, the police statement, the family, all seemed to jibe on that. The man had been knocked dead, knocked dead as a doornail on the floor. There was the how. Now for the who and why.

The name had sent up a red flag at once, but it turned out that these Boneses were no relation to the noble wizard house of Bones. He had checked back generations and found no magical history, to his disappointment. And even if it was a family crime, why only this man? None of his family, wife, cousins, relations, had suffered even faintly. Only him. Why?

He had garnered attention, and aroused anger. How?

Percy knew he had a million avenues to check, and he also knew he'd never have time for them all. There were endless possibilities. He'd found a muggle-born and taken it in for a night, never knowing, and been tracked by a Death Eater. He'd ignorantly, piously spoken against magic for one moment of one day and been overheard by a Death Eater. He'd seen a crime committed and fought against Obliviation. He'd sensed the presence of a dementor and fought against it. He had overheard something, noticed something, touched someone, brushed against something. One touch, one drop of blood, one word, was enough to involve him in their war, and now they would likely never know. He just needed to hit on the right one avenue in a maze of a million reasons.

And there was, of course, the one, easy reason staring him in the face. Muggle-killing. The senseless slaughter of ordinary people, selected at random and systematically murdered, sometimes carried away and sometimes partially devoured on the spot. An amusing diversion, a training run...or just pointless bloodshed.

Percy fought that possibility. Bones had been in an upscale area! In an empty restaurant! The odds were ridiculous! Why would a Death Eater go to an empty building for victims, in an area where wizards never strayed? It didn't fit the pattern that Greyback or his cohorts had established. The murder had been clean, flawless, unconnected. Whoever had done it was not sloppy, not out for sport or for a fresh taste of flesh. They were out to kill.

But _why?_

Percy could have pounded his head to a pulp, that one question going around and around again and again.

He wanted desperately to find even the merest hint of magic somewhere. In nearly all of his war cases thus far, he had been able to find a link, a connection, a reason behind the corpse's tortured grimace.

But not Michael Bones. He had nothing to link him to the Wizard World, and after three days, Percy was beginning to realize with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he might have to tell those two women that their man, their rock and leader, had died for nothing. All their grief, all their loss, was worthless. He pulled off his glasses and squeezed his nose, aware that he already had a migraine. He rose and went to the kitchen for a pain potion, his mind on murder.

This case was going to drive him crazy. He needed to get away from it. Get away from those staring blue eyes in the muggle photograph, because they were making him feel inadequate. They were waiting for him to find a motive, a motive that had to be right under his nose. Something so obvious his wife and daughter would not have thought it amiss. Something so blatantly there that he was going to feel like a fool for not seeing it...

He downed a pain potion, wincing at the burning taste.

No, more likely it was something hidden. Something covered by layers and layers of secrecy, as thick as one of his mother's knitted jumpers. He just had to find the right thread and the whole ugly thing would unravel.

Or maybe...

_Stop thinking about it. It'll drive you mad. This is not simple like writing reports and signing papers. This is supposed to be complicated. _

Right.

All he needed was a breakthrough, a way to find the missing connection to the Wizard World. There was one, he was sure of it, and he would find it. He just had to get a hold of Audrey and Lucy Bones again and push them for all the information he could. Best start with Audrey. She was younger, more passionate, her tongue was a lot looser. And he could tell by her posture, her tone, everything, she was simmering with anger. Yes, he'd start with her and push to get whatever information he could out of her, in any way. There was a thread somewhere to be unraveled. And as soon as he had found it, he would find a Death Eater, a Snatcher, someone who had been given orders, and that would give him a name and an Azkaban cell number, and he would know.

And then he'd go back to the Ministry, start on the next case, and do it all over again.

God, he needed to get out.

The entire Ministry had been shuffled about since war's end-that is, those employees that still remained. Percy had been asked to join the Muggle Reinvestigational Unit, a temporary department sanctioned by Kingsley Shacklebolt to track down, reopen, and solve the masses of muggle-related crimes inflicted during the war. It was a delicate job, considering how few Ministry employees knew how to translate to muggles, but Percy had taken the job without question, simply willing to work at whatever he was told. As soon as justice had been reached for every muggle hate crime, the department would be terminated and he would be given a position elsewhere.

Or dismissed. He didn't want to think of that.

He let himself fall face down on his couch and groaned. Work, work…he hated his job. He was an office worker, a politician, a diplomat. He was not cut out to play hit wizard or investigator.

Rolling over, he sent a patronus shooting toward the ceiling. "How's George?" He asked.

A moment later, a corporeal silver dragon wafted in. "We're at the Burrow if you want to come over."

Percy pushed himself to his feet and summoned one of his old comfy robes, tossed it on and stepped out the door. After securing the door, he checked to be certain no one was about in the Muggle apartment building, and apparated away to the Burrow.


	3. Coping and Healing

**A/N: I do not own anything you recognize. **

**YES! There is a third chapter! I planned on adding a chapter each Friday, though that may change…**

**This chapter goes out to my reviewer Avanell. Thanks so much!**

**Chapter 3: Coping and Healing **

The Weasley family had taken their share of beating from the war. Now that it was over, now that they didn't have to spend every waking moment fearing for each other, life had a suspended sense of unreality about it. Things were not all better, and no one had expected them to be. George still drank himself to sleep each time he woke. Percy and Bill were both beginning to suspect that he was getting illegal substances from filthy Dung Fletcher, too, though Bill was as yet unable to prove that. Ginny had taken Hermione's lead and buried herself in her books, spending hours in her room alone, not studying on her NEWTs as much as she was studying on how to cope. Ron, Charlie, Bill, and Father were pulling many extra hours helping pull together the shattered fragments of a weakened government, helping track down escaped Death Eaters and remove the stain their influence had left on the world.

This month, this July, he almost missed the nights he had spent all alone in his flat last year. Not truly, but a little. It was easier to imagine his family all having a grand old time together than to know for certain that they were dying inside separately. Their days were long and separated, frazzling hours spent on their wrecked existences. And at night they'd either curl up and cry alone, or curl up and cry together.

At least, Percy hoped he wasn't the only one who still cried and had nightmares at night. He certainly didn't let anyone know that.

He'd been back with the family for over two months now, and he still had no one to talk to. He still sat lonely each night.

Percy pulled himself out of his reverie as he looked at the familiar ramshackle house. He was here, he'd best go see what was about.

Gnomes scampered from the corners of his eyes as he approached the door. Tugging it open, he stepped inside and made his way to the kitchen.

George was sitting at the table, his eyes nearly clear for once, his hands around a glass of pumpkin juice. Bill sat on one side of him, scowling jointly at a chessboard in front of him, and at Ron, across from him. Charlie and Ginny were up helping with dinner, Potter was sitting with George, and of course Hermione was sitting in a corner with Father. Talking about toasters, most likely.

Percy crossed the room to lean over Ron's shoulder and study the chessboard. As usual, Ron had Bill beat already. Percy punched his shoulder lightly, and could feel his brother's smugness. Bill glowered at the pair of them.

"Shove off, Glasses. And no helping."

"It would appear to me that Ron doesn't need my help." Percy replied.

"Percy?" His mother emerged from the pantry. "Ginny, set the table. Hello, dear."

"Hello, Mother." He let her hug him tightly before stepping back. "I hope you don't mind me. I didn't think we'd all be here." He glanced about.

"No, no, not at all." She waved him off before moving to the final dinner preparations. "Charlie, forks on the other side."

Charlie studied the place settings critically before shrugging and simply leaving the utensils in a pile for everyone else to pick out. The family moved about the table.

"Say, Bill, where's the wife?"

"Spending the day with Gabrielle." Bill replied dolefully. "Apparently I'm little fun at Madame Malkin's."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Salt, please, George."

The conversation rolled on, and as usual Percy contributed little to it. No one was talking about just one thing, everyone was involved. It had always been that way, but still the room felt stiff and stilted. God, who had known that Fred contributed quite so much? Just looking over at George made Percy look down at his plate and bite his lip, stomach twisting. The FredandGeorge act he'd always hated was all gone now. One of the two faces was gone and the other was dull, bleary, no longer wearing a perpetual insolent grin.

He rubbed his eyebrow absentmindedly, trying hard not to think of the last time he'd seen that grin...on Fred's face...the ceiling was falling in, and they were dragging him away, down the hall, and he was a dead weight, but they couldn't leave him, and God, why wouldn't Ron just hush and help them out here, and if he ever saw that bastard Death Eater again, so help him he'd curse him into infinite hell-

"Glasses!"

Percy snapped up. "Mm?"

"Potatoes?"

"Er...no thanks." Percy rubbed his eyebrow yet again, and Bill raised his own. "Work stressful lately, eh?"

Percy tried to shrug. "You know. Nothing like a little unsolved murder, a few muggle-killings, a bit of avada kedavra to spice up the workplace."

The table fell silent abruptly and Percy cursed himself. He should not have come. He was a perpetual killjoy in a family of fun-lovers. They were trying to heal, trying to move on. He was just trying to cope. Healing was something he hadn't even considered. He didn't want to. He thrived on the hate that made him able to do his job. He'd never been an emotional person, but once he tasted hate, he'd become strangely addicted.

"Sorry." He muttered. "I'm just tired."

"Morbid." Charlie said. "Stop trying to make jokes, Perce, you're still too new at it." He was attempting to lighten the mood a bit, and Percy managed to turn the corners of his mouth up in a pretend-smile.

"Still morbid." Charlie told him. "Just don't smile at all, it suits you better."

Percy glared at him and reached for the potatoes for something to do. His mother was talking about knitting with Hermione, and he pretended to be deeply interested so he wouldn't have to face his brother's looks. He honestly didn't feel comfortable looking at Bill's face anymore, anyways, what with half of it gone and all.

After dinner, the family scattered. Ron asked him to a chess match, which he declined mostly because he knew that Ron was already better at it than he was. He ended up stuck with Charlie, sitting on the porch. They'd gone outside into the thickening dark to drink their butterbeer, mostly so that George wouldn't see them drinking and get any ideas.

Charlie sipped thoughtfully from his butterbeer. Percy wasn't the only one who had learned a lot about relationships over the course of the war. Charlie had finally figured out how to hold a conversation with a human, and a serious one at that. With Bill busy with work and a wife, Charlie had been forced to step in and play big brother in a way he never had before. Percy had thought he'd enjoy showing Charlie how to take responsibility at last.

He hadn't enjoyed it a bit.

"So." Charlie began. "I usually don't ask about your work because...well."

"No cauldron bottoms." Percy muttered. "I don't think anyone cares about stuff like that anymore."

"Good." Charlie sounded relieved. "Then, how is it?"

Percy rubbed his neck as Bill stepped out with a bottle of his own and plopped down on Percy's other side. How splendidly copacetic. Now he was trapped.

"Just gets old, I suppose." He admitted. "I can't wait until we're all done with the post-war mess and I can get back to writing reports about fertiliser samples." He was fairly certain his brothers both thought he was being a sissy again. After all, they were Order. They did cloak-and-dagger rot for a living.

Silence fell, reassuring him that his brothers did think he was a sissy. He sipped from his butterbeer, wishing Hermione would come out so he could stop thinking about work and talk about nonverbal legilimency or the properties of wolfsbane or something equally nerdy.

"Just a little longer, Perce." Bill said quietly. "No one is slacking off on this. The harder we work, the quicker we can get things back to the way they were, but..." He glanced over at his bespectacled brother. "I don't think anyone expects you to kill yourself trying to get there."

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are. You're skinnier than usual (which is saying something), you talk less than you ever did (which is saying something a lot more), you're rubbing that right eyebrow there to where it's nearly coming off, and you clearly aren't sleeping enough. You've got those huge enormous circles under your eyes, and don't say they don't show, because they do. Merlin alive, you look like some sort of sick inferi in a new set of dress robes."

"With ugly glasses." Charlie added.

"That, too."

Percy glanced at Charlie, annoyed and aware that the effect of his glare was lost because of said glasses. "I'm working no harder than anyone else."

"Then what was bothering you so much at dinner?"

"I just-you know, everything."

"How eloquent of you."

"Bill!"

"Percy?"

Percy sighed and rubbed his eyebrow again. "It's all the things we have to do to get it all fixed." He said finally. "It seemed like just last year-I mean, in '96, everything was just fine and the Ministry was running splendidly. And now it's '98 and all hell's broken loose, and how on earth or hell or whatever's in between did that happen so fast, and furthermore, why does it seem we're not making any progress?"

"You ought to know." Bill said. "You're the one who's an absolute sucks at Quidditch."

"What?"

"It's a lot easier to fall down than it is to go up, Perce. And it's a lot faster, too." Bill reminded him.

Charlie snorted. "Very original analogy there, Bill."

"Shut up." Bill waited for Percy to respond, and when he didn't, the elder brother simply shrugged. "The worst is over. People-at least, good people-aren't dying anymore, eh?"

"No." Percy said. "They're not dying anymore. But I still have to look at them now they're dead."

As long as he had to spend his waking hours looking into a dead man's eyes, as long as he had to spend his sleeping hours looking into Fred's empty grin, he knew he wasn't going to start healing. Coping was one thing. Healing was another.

Audrey curled up on her bed, stared out the open curtains. She and Mum had talked for hours, on and on about the case. Recalled every detail. She could still feel that wonderful thrill she'd felt when she'd answered her phone and been asked to meet with a Mr. Weezly regarding her father's case.

P. Weasley wasn't quite the investigator she'd expected, but at least he was...

Thorough. That was what her mother had said. "At least he's thorough." She'd looked perplexed as they'd discussed the questions about religion and beliefs.

He didn't exactly ooze concern. He was just like a lot of policemen she'd talked to. Focused on his job, focused on his work. The people were hardly more than circumstantial pieces in a puzzle they'd be willing to stick together any which way to make it fit and get it off their desk. Hurry and solve this case so you can hurry and solve the next one. Hurry, hurry, hurry. The next murder is always the most important, the next meeting the most urgent...

Audrey punched her pillow and rolled over.

_Please, please, please, God, I know I haven't been real great with you lately, but please, please, please, I want who did this to suffer. Didn't you say an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth? Isn't the penalty for killing to be killed oneself? Isn't that in the Bible? Then please, step in when mortal men fail, and catch this man. Send me a miracle, and don't let him walk away. The government isn't working as it ought. Step in yourself and right what's wrong..._

She stared into the dark, not at all sure that God was hearing her prayers. She had sworn and cursed at him last year when they had found her father dead. She had trusted him to see that the man responsible was caught. Instead he gave her men in suits and ties who told her it was a heart attack, when it was perfectly plain that it was not. She knew there was no proof of murder, that heart failure was feasible, but yet that didn't answer all the questions. So she'd sworn some more and had to admit that man had failed, yet again. Had to admit that the only way justice would come was by God. Because humans were flawed, wretched beings who did hurtful things and never made it right.

_Please_, she thought. _Please, bring justice. If this is the miracle I've been waiting for since August, please let it come to pass._

Her mind traced over one of her newest, most favorite verses in the Bible.

_"The righteous will be glad when they are avenged, when they bathe their feet with the blood of the wicked. Then men will say, surely the righteous are still rewarded; surely there is a God who judges the earth."_

She sat up. There was no way she was getting to sleep tonight. Not as long as she savored her hate. Not as long as she dreamed of personally murdering whoever had killed her father.

Why couldn't she be calm, complacent, content, like her mother? Why couldn't she be whole? She wasn't even close to the healing her mother had. She was only making it by now, because she had no choice but to cope.

Coping was one thing. Healing was another.


	4. Bakery

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**This chapter goes out to all my reviewers, and especially Julu. Thanks! **

**Chapter 4: Bakery**

Percy was the first to the coffeeshop on the day of their next meeting, determined not to be late again. He claimed a table and sat, mulling over the case of a muggle who'd been bitten by an as yet unknown wer-wolf. The photographs from the injury were...unpleasant, to say the least. Percy sipped his tea determinedly, willing his stomach not to wrench, and turned to the sketch.

Audrey pushed through the door, running a hasty hand through her hair. She'd been more than pleased to receive yet another call from Mr. Weasley, however condescending he might be. He was her ticket to justice. She paused at the counter to order, then scanned the room. The distinct flaming red head was bent over a table in the corner. She made her way to him, tapping on the table as she set down her bag.

He glanced up at her arrival and hastily snapped shut whatever he'd been doing. She got a good enough glimpse to see that it was not her father's case. At least she hoped not. It was hard to tell, seeing as the pictures were upside down from her angle, but it looked like a badly mangled human body. She sat stiffly. "I hope I'm not early-I mean, not too early."

He shuffled papers and moved things aside. "No, no, I was just...working." He pushed aside the folder and dug for her father's, pulling it out momentarily. "Now." He took a breath. "Miss Bones."

"Audrey."

He glanced at her with a quirked brow. "Er...Audrey." He preferred not to address others so casually. The way he said it made it come out sounding like '_odd_-ree'. He went on.

"Miss...Audrey." He launched into his line of questioning. They were all acidulously dull questions, and none gave him any real results. At last, and with acute disappointment, he set down his muggle-made pencil.

He gave Audrey a moment to sip her tea as he surreptitiously ran a hand over his face. Nothing. Still no motive. He rubbed his eyebrow, only half aware of what he was doing.

She was watching him, and he quickly dropped his hand. "Pardon? Did you say something?"

"No." She glanced down. "That's about the tenth time this afternoon you've rubbed your eyebrow like that."

He paused. "Oh. It's...a nervous habit."

"Obviously."

She sounded pleasant, and he didn't feel the need to defend himself. He let the statement pass, mulling over his options.

Abruptly, he spoke. "I'd like to see the crime scene." Even if it had been going on eighteen months since the murder, he wanted to have a look. "That is...I was wondering if you could show me...as you were there..." Perhaps, just perhaps, she might remember something new?

She set down her mug and nodded. "Certainly. I know the place well...As a kid, I spent all my time at the restaurant. I was practically born there." She shook her head and returned to the topic. "Beck, the manager, would let us in anytime. And I suppose you have a badge for these sorts of things..."

He did have a Ministry card that he could use in the Muggle world, but he wasn't quite comfortable using it. And she'd be going with him anyways. "Copacetic. When do you think we could get in?"

"About anytime." She said.

"Tonight?"

She looked surprised.

"Unless you're doing something?" He felt oddly like he was asking her on a date. He was asking her to take him to a crime scene, for Godric's sake.

"No, nothing." She said. "We could have Beck leave us a key, but I think we'd better wait until they close. I'd hate to come in on them during the dinner rush, or at clean-up."

"What time, then?"

Audrey hesitated. The restaurant wouldn't be vacant until at least eleven, but she didn't figure he'd be crazy about working that late. He had to have a life, after all.

She glanced at the bespectacled, befreckled ginger with the awkward vocabulary.

Well, he might have a life.

Possibly.

"The restaurant closes at ten, does it not? And the employees leave an hour following?" He cut into her thoughts.

"Yes."

"Perhaps then?"

"Sure...I mean, if it's not too late. We could always go by on a closed day. You must have better things to do with your evenings."

He gave an indistinct reply and wrote something down. "Eleven tonight. Agreeable?"

"Fine by me." She shrugged.

"Copacetic. I shall meet you there." He began stuffing things into his briefcase.

Audrey bade Beck a good night and watched her walk to her car with the promise she'd close up when she and Percy were done. She leant back against the steel countertop and rubbed her eyes wearily. It was late and she was tired, and eager to go home.

A rap on the door made her open her eyes. She unlocked and opened the door to let him in. He glanced around quickly. "Thank you." She noted with some wry annoyance that he didn't look any more tired than usual, though after contemplation she was forced to admit that meant little, seeing as every time she'd seen him he looked some degree of exhausted. Poor bloke needed more sleep. Less murder might help, too.

She nodded in response and turned away, determined to stay awake and focused. "The bakery's this way."

He followed her back, glancing about. "They came in through that door we just entered through?" He asked.

"As far as we know." She replied. She knew the case backwards. The Weasley seemed to expect nothing less. "There weren't any signs of forced entry of course, so they assumed whoever it was had a key."

"Of course." He said absentmindedly.

The bakery was tucked away, separate from the rest of the kitchen. Percy entered and glanced around at the thick table in the center, the several massive ovens, and the stored pans beneath the counters.

"He was there?"

"Yes." On the opposite side of the table, right around the middle of the floor. "He was cleaning the table." She said. "There was a rag..." She shook her head and pushed the thought away. She could distinctly remember insignificant little details about the scene. The rag on the table. The basket of napkins that was always kept just beneath the left-hand counter. The shoes the investigator had been wearing when he stood over her father. Someone had been chewing gum. She hated gum.

_Concentrate_, she willed herself. _Even if this means nothing, at least pull yourself together._

"You say you come here often?"

"Yes, ever since I was a baby." She replied.

"Was anything out of order that night?"

"Nothing I noticed."

"Would you remember?" He asked softly. She gave him a look.

"I remember it all very clearly." She said. "Nothing stolen, nothing touched. Just...him. They only came for him."

Percy noted her word usage. _They came_. She was still hung on the idea of murder.

He asked more questions, walked around, all to no avail, and they both knew it.

She watched him study the room through his glasses, then trained her eyes on the tiles of the floor. She'd used to love this room. The way it smelt. This was where her parents had met, both of them cooks. When she was a girl she used to play hide-and-seek. She would always hide in the piles of clean napkins, and her father always knew just where to look for her. This, she thought ruefully, was where she and he had first met, and it was the last time she had seen him. Dead on the floor.

_Snap out of it_, she told herself firmly. _Think like Mum_.

She stood in silence until at last, the Weasley put away his notebook. "Copacetic." He said. "That will be all."

"When can I expect to hear from you again?" She asked as she led him back outside and locked the back door.

"Soon." He said vaguely.

She waited a moment for him to elaborate. He did not seem the type to explain himself, so she finally just nodded. "All right, then." She glanced ruefully at the bus stop across the street.

He followed her gaze. "When does your bus arrive?"

"A quarter hour."

"And you're waiting here alone?"

"Yes." She caught his glance and shrugged. "It's a safe neighborhood..." She began to defend herself, and then paused. "Most of the time." Her last words were murmured as she looked away again.

He rubbed his eyebrow, sighed, and seemed to resign himself. "Fine. I'll wait with you."

"You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do." His professional annoyance silenced her, and she shrugged. "All right, then." She started across the wet street and seated herself on the bench. Cars honked a few blocks away, but this street was silent. Audrey gazed at the alley behind the restaurant, the trash bins making odd shapes in the dark.

Percy sat beside her. He had work to do, reports to write. But he'd have to wait-of course. What else could he do? He knew, of course, that there were no Death Eaters on this street. If it had been Ginny, he would have let her stay and wait alone. But Audrey was not Ginny. Ginny had a temper and a wand. Audrey probably had a can of pepper spray and nothing more, as she seemed a bit devoid on the temper part. So, hex it all, he was going to sit here and wait with her for her idiotic muggle bus that ran on a schedule instead of just coming when it was called.

He looked over at Audrey. She'd leant her head back against the bench and closed her eyes, and he realized suddenly what time it was. Simply because he couldn't sleep for nightmares did not mean the same for her. She looked pale, but he reminded himself it was probably just the garish Muggle light. He let his gaze slide over her face, so unlike her father's, and then down her throat. She had a nice throat.

What in the name of Rowena's hairbrush? _She had a nice throat?_ Charlie had to be rubbing off on him. He looked ahead at the street and focused on thinking thoughts in the logical style Percival Weasley.

Though admittedly, there was nothing illogical about that statement. She did have...oh bugger it, Percy told himself, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

Audrey opened her eyes and glanced over at him to find him scowling at the pavement. "I'm sorry you're having to wait." She said.

"I don't have to wait." He reminded her.

"Well, than thank you."

He shrugged. "My apologies for dragging you out late."

"I don't mind." She responded ruefully. "Anything it takes."

He glanced over at her. "Miss Bones."

"Audrey."

"Yes...you ought to prepare yourself. I cannot promise you that the killer will be found. It is a very unusual and difficult case. There is a possibility that we will never know." He fixed his gaze firmly on her, hoping she did not burst out into denial, anger, or worse; tears. She was staring at him oddly, almost incredulously. He wet his lips and hurried on. "But you may rest assured, that whomever it is has not struck once. Such criminals never do. He is likely already in apprehension on an unrelated charge." He nodded, trying to make her feel better.

Her tone was quiet. "Are you talking about homicide?"

He stopped. Vollydort's pinstripes, had he said that much? It was hope, that incredulous look on her face, and he bit down hard on his tongue. The damage was done, she knew it was a murder investigation.

He looked at her for a long moment. She was pleading, almost. "I believe," he began slowly, "That your father was killed by…an organization, for an as yet unknown reason."

"A gang?"

"Something like that." He said vaguely. "But as the case is under investigation, I recommend to you that you mention our official suspicions to no one. I would be careful even what you mention to Madam Bones."

She could have kissed him right then. "Thank you, thank you so much...As pathetic as it sounds, this is probably the best news I've had since he died."

He shook his head. "Utterly understandable."

"Can I tell my mother?"

He shrugged. "You may, but I would advise care in your wording. Though we may trace the crime to the organization, we may never be given an opportunity to identify or apprehend the actual felon." Names, faces, Death Eaters rolled through his mind. All but Malfoy were already in Azkaban.

"That's close enough for me." She said. "Closer to the truth than I've got in a long time." To know why...She hesitated. "Do you know why he was killed? Did they want something from him?"

_For the love of all that's enchanted, I don't know!_ Percy wanted to scream. Why, why, why, had been banging against the inside of his head for long enough and now he was getting it from her, too. "That is classified." He said stiffly.

"Oh." She was instantly compliant. "Of course, I won't ask." She didn't even seem to mind that he had just broken the news they might never find justice. She was beaming. "Thank you so much." She said again. "I mean, even as pathetic as it may sound."

Percy didn't think it sounded pathetic, but he didn't say that. After he had killed Augustus Rookwood, Charlie had thrown his arms around him and wept out his thanks. To Percy's mind, Audrey was taking this all very calmly compared to that. He cleared his throat uncomfortably all the same and nodded. "Well, it's all in the line of work." He said distantly, feeling relief steal through him as her bus rolled around the corner. To be honest, conversations with her were stressful. As sorry as he was for her father, his blasted murder was wreaking havoc on Percy's ability to think straight.

She stood, seeing the bus come. "All right, then. I...I can't wait to tell my mother. And I promise I won't get her hopes up. It's just nice to have someone who takes me seriously, you know?"

"I know." He nodded and they shook hands.

"Good night." She seemed tempted to say thank you yet again, but stifled the urge and turned to board.

"Good night." He let her roll away into the night before melting onto the bench again and apparating home.

Lucy Bones shuffled wearily down the hall in her nightrobe, a familiar smell filling the air. Audrey was baking chocolate chip cookies.

"Audie, it is one in the morning." She said wearily. Not that she could complain. There was no question where Audrey had gotten her baking habits. Cookies in the night meant a good mood that could not wait until morning to be expressed.

She was seated on the counter, nonchalantly spreading frosting over a cookie. "Guess what?"

"What is it?"

"Weasley said that they think Dad was killed by a gang or something like that."

There was a long pause.

"I mean, not that I'm happy about that..." Audrey began.

"No." Her mother nodded slowly. "I know what you mean. That's wonderful. So it _is_ a homicide we're looking at. And he thinks a gang..." She thought over the times she'd spoken with the detective.

Audrey was gazing at her.

"Don't, I know what you want to say, and no, I don't know how I can be so calm." Lucy informed her, dragging her attention back to her daughter. "I'm glad you're excited." She looked ruefully at the cooling sheet of cookies. "These will go straight to my hips." She reached for one anyways. "I like this Weasley." She mused. "Do you know any more?"

"No. He knows more, I can tell. But he was close-mouthed about it all."

"Well, let's have him over, see what we can drag out of him, hm?"

"Absolutely." Audrey agreed, smiling devilishly enough that Lucy wondered just how much chocolate she had eaten. "Go to bed."

"Mum! I'm twenty-one!"

"Now!"

"Fine..." She ducked the swatted dish towel and tripped off to the shower.


	5. Dinner

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. **

**Chapter 5: Dinner **

Percy rumpled his hair. Madam Bones had got him word and invited him for dinner tonight. For thanks, she said.

Rot. She had her own motives. But he couldn't gracefully get out of it, and to be honest, he admitted, gazing around the blank walls of his apartment, he wouldn't mind a night out. Setting aside the fact that he never cooked and rarely went out, it would be nice simply to have someone to talk to, somewhere to go. The Bones case was going nowhere, the Pearson case was wrapping up, the Gray case made him sick to his stomach...He couldn't go to the Burrow too often lest they wise up and figure that he was stressing again. But oh, he hated to spend each night in this apartment.

So it was that he found himself rummaging through his wardrobe, throwing on something that would get him by in the Muggle world, and setting out for an apparition point near the Bones residence.

Audrey opened the door with a smile and a 'so glad you could make it'.

"Yes." He said, stepping inside. She definitely had an ulterior motive. "Thank you for inviting me. I'd hoped to talk over the case with you both."

"Sure, sure." She led him into the kitchen. "Mum, Mr. Weasley is here."

Lucy turned, also beaming, and greeted him. "Mr. Weasley."

"Mrs. Bones." He said, remembering that Muggles didn't use terms like Madam anymore.

"Please, it's Lucy. And if there's another name you'd prefer us to call you...?"

Percy wanted to scowl. She'd effectively forced him into allowing the usage of his first name. It wouldn't be polite to call an older woman by her first name while going only by his last. "Percy." He said at last. "It's Percy."

"Percy? I had thought the P stood for Peter." She set a dish on the table and invited him to sit. Percy slipped into his seat, partway grateful and partway uneasy that they were being so casual.

Audrey sat across from him and Lucy began to serve. The meal began as Lucy presided. She was frank, that woman, in a way that reminded him of his own mother. She cut straight to the point. "So, Percy, Audrey tells me you have some idea about the murder case? A gang, you said it was, dear?"

"An organization." Percy cut in before Audrey could reply. "But it's very...unclear." For her, it was. For him, it was clear as glass.

Lucy paused as she served. "What kind of an organization?"

Percy fiddled with his fork. "Well..." He decided to out with it, at least part of it. "At our, er, department, we've been...working against a certain group of criminals. About a year ago we started putting together a number of cases that we thought could be traced back to this group. One of those cases is your husband's."

"But what is this group? Is it some sort of...mob or mafia?"

Percy shook his head. "No, not like that, more like a..." He searched for words. Terrorist ring? Supremacist organization? Cult?

Audrey chewed slowly as she watched their guest struggle for words. She and Lucy exchanged glances. The ginger reached up and rubbed his eyebrow, and she stifled a laugh. "All right, all right, it's secret, yes?"

"Er...yes."

"Is it a group we might know about?" Lucy asked.

"I had hoped so." Percy said honestly. "But it would seem that you know nothing."

"Then they're not...one of those gangs you hear about on the telly?"

Percy paused for a moment, bemused, and then seemed to understand her. "Oh, oh no, ma'am, they're quite covert."

"You're not giving us much to go on." Lucy commented. "Can we at least know the name of the organization, to see if we just might recognize it?"

"I am afraid not."

Audrey raised an eyebrow. All the stiffness had come rushing back into his voice. Clearly, they'd hit a brick wall. So there were limits, things he could mention and things he couldn't. She toyed with the food on her plate and raised her eyes to his. "What about that other case I saw you working on, last week? Was that also attributed to this group?"

"Possibly." He still sounded stiff.

"But," Lucy began, and Percy could feel already what she was going to ask. The insufferable question of motive. "What are they after? Michael would not have had anything to do with them, I'm sure."

"Perhaps he ran afoul of them." Percy said distantly. "Perhaps he refused them some request. Perhaps they were training new recruits. Perhaps they were bored. I really don't know."

"They would kill someone out of boredom?"

"Worse things have been done." Percy said, and bit his tongue as soon as he had said it. That was not the thing to say in this situation. A glance upward showed Audrey shooting him a hard look. Lucy just sipped thoughtfully and set down her glass again.

"Are we in any danger, Percy?"

Percy looked away from Audrey quickly. "I don't think so, ma'am. Most of the members are in custody somewhere, those that aren't have fled the country. Their trials are still ongoing...I'm just hoping to pin one of them with this case. Regardless of whether it's solved or not, the individual directly involved will likely be imprisoned or killed." He added with a bitter note, "Death Eaters don't strike once."

"Death Eaters?"

Blast his thrice-accursed tongue! "Er..."

"Well it certainly sounds malicious." Lucy said. "And you're right, I've never heard such a name. You, Audrey?" She turned her eyes to Audrey's gray ones, and Audrey shook her head. "No, never."

Percy looked down. "I didn't expect you to." He said. "The case, then, isn't going much of anywhere, I'm afraid."

"Because there's no motive and no way to pin it on an individual person." Audrey assumed. "Can't you just charge the leaders with it, saying they assisted?"

Charging Voldemort with murder...A laughable idea. There had never been any thought of bringing the Dark Lord to trial. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible." Percy told her with a straight face. "We know it was someone in the group, but we don't know who. And it looks as if this could be as far as we go, unless one of them confesses...which they won't."

"No chance of it?"

"No..." Percy let his voice trail off. Well...there was Malfoy. There was hardly any doubt that the Most Noble House of Malfoy would get off with their crimes again. Not because of money this time, because of a well-played hand by Narcissa Malfoy. Potter had already agreed to testify for them at trial, and no one went against Potter. He cleared his throat and drew himself back to the present. "No, hardly a chance." He would have to talk to Malfoy, though. Hadn't he confessed to being along on several muggle-killings?

Lucy sighed. "Well, then, you're at a dead end?"

"Yes. It was definitely one of the organization, but we don't know and can't prove who. If we had a motive, we could probably narrow it down." But again, the vital link was missing. It was not a crime at random, but it was not one that had reason to be planned.

"How do you know it was a...'Death-Eating' person?" Audrey asked.

"The manner of the death." Percy said briskly. "And I'd prefer that you did not use _that_ term, nor told anyone I said it." He told her.

She nodded, brushing aside his warning. "What was the cause of death? Was it some sort of poison?"

"No." Percy said slowly. "It wasn't. And that is something else you should prepare yourselves for."

They both waited.

"Even if the case is solved and closed, you may never know. The full report will probably never be released, and so some things...like the motive, the cause of death, you'll probably never learn."

"But we're his family!" Audrey protested.

Percy kept his eyes on his plate. "Regulation." He didn't have to look at her to know that she was miffed beyond words. An unpleasant huff of breath signified her displeasure. Percy noted his empty plate and wondered whether to go.

"Audrey." Lucy's voice cut through the silence. "Why don't you clear the plates? I think we're all ready for dessert."

Audrey met his eyes across the table. She looked tired, though not as tired as she had been a few nights before. "Sure, just a moment."

Dessert was eaten with some small talk and no more discussion of 'the case'. Audrey joined in, but he could tell she was still annoyed. She had a similar way as his mother of signifying her displeasure without really being open about it. Or maybe he was just perceptive. At the end of the meal, both women rose to clean the kitchen. Percy rose with them, offering to stay and help.

"Oh, no it's fine, I can do it." Audrey waved him off.

"No, I'd be happy to help." He insisted.

With a shrug, she let him follow her back into the kitchen and set the dishes in the sink. "Suit yourself." She let Percy take a sponge and start to scrub.

"It's very generous of you, Percy." Lucy smiled, encouraging Audrey behind the redhead's back.

"Yes." Audrey picked up her mother's signal. "I don't suppose you get to do the dishes often."

He gave what sounded suspiciously like a snort. "More often than you'd think."

"Oh? I had you rather pegged for the office type."

He gave her a wry look. Still trying to compensate for making her mad, probably. Still thought she was a hormonal, obsessed oddball who had nothing better to do but stress about her dead father. She pulled herself back to what he was saying. "I will have you know," He informed her, "That I grew doing dishes. Along with many other chores. On a farm."

"A farm?" In spite of herself, she was surprised.

"A chicken farm."

She bit back a laugh. "Forgive me the stereotype."

He shrugged. "Some things you can't help."

Oh, so now he was being clever, drawing allusions to his imaginary childhood on a chicken farm and his job that required him not to tell her the truth. About her father. She looked at him directly. "I understand your little analogy, Mr. Weasley." She said, taking the first dish he offered her and sticking it in the dishwasher. "But I think it's a pretty weak one, especially when you're talking about real people, real lives. Do you mean to say that you actually do this for a living? Solve cases and then don't tell people that they're solved?"

"In some instances, yes, that is the duty of certain offices." Audrey turned from putting away a bowl and caught him giving the dishwasher a long, queer look.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for him to finish scrubbing a plate. "Have you ever lost anyone you really loved, Mr. Weasley?" She demanded harshly, emphasizing use of his last name rather than his first. Her mother gave her a punishing look behind his back.

"As a matter of fact, I have." He replied, abruptly turning to hand her the dish.

"Imagine it had been an instance like mine. Wouldn't you want to know who and why? Wouldn't you want justice?"

"Justice can be got without you being told, Miss Bones." He reminded her.

"And why can't we be told?" Lucy interrupted, trying to bring the conversation to a less personal level, an easier plain.

"Because," Percy responded, jumping at the chance to get away from reference to his own problems. "The organization in question is involved in many covert affairs, many very far-reaching, and we cannot release the instances of one crime without revealing certain items of them all. Secrets of monumental importance to our Ministry." He gave Audrey a frown and another dish.

She turned partly to place it in the washer and partly to hide her face. Was it that big a deal? What exactly had her father gotten himself into? She turned to take the cutlery and caught her mother's eye. Lucy Bones looked equally baffled. Percy had fallen silent, waiting for one of them to respond, or perhaps enjoying the momentary escape from their questions.

There was a long pause.

"So." Lucy tried to pull them back to lighter topics, as Audrey had lost all her air. "How long have you been in police work, Percy?"

"Police-" He shook his head then. "No, I'm not a policeman, or a detective."

"No? Then how..."

"No. I'm a secretary. Not an investigator at all, no." He said hastily. "I mean," He added belatedly, "Not that I don't relish the job I have, and I am resolved to accomplish the very best results in each and every-"

"Yes, yes, I understand the diplomatic drivel." Lucy waved a hand as Audrey closed the dishwasher and Percy began to scrub the sink. "As far as I can see, you are doing a good job. But I have to ask, if you don't enjoy it, and you don't do it for a living, how did you end up with a position like this?"

Percy put away the sponge. "Because my employer asked me to shift departments. He needed someone to investigate crimes against Mug-er, that is to say, certain closed cases, and I got the job. As soon as I'm done with all my cases I'll go back to...writing memos and all that." He'd spent a few days as Shacklebolt's assistant in the midst of all the post-battle confusion. He was sincerely hoping to get the position back, considering that the two had experience together and the job was up for grabs. Of course, he never would if he didn't wrap up neatly the duties he had now...

"Ah." Lucy nodded. "That makes sense."

"So you're just a secretary?" Audrey asked skeptically. He turned and looked down at her.

"Problem?"

"No." Audrey glanced back up at him as she scrubbed the counter. "I suppose if you've solved other cases you're all right." She looked up at him. "How many case have you worked?"

"I was given a list of...quite a few to investigate to closure."

"How many do you have left to close?"

"Three." He said. "Not counting your father's."

"How long have you been on it?"

"Since May 12th." He said. Ten days after the fall of Hogwarts, nine days after the fall of the Ministry, only a short week after Shacklebolt had been made minister. He didn't know entirely what day today was, so he couldn't have said just how many days he had been on it. Was it July the eighteenth? No...

Lucy put away the last of the leftovers. "Well, that's it, I suppose."

"Right." Percy checked himself. "Thank you for the dinner."

"Thank you." Lucy smiled. "For your help, on the case and in the kitchen." They both saw him out. He swung the door open, and Lucy paused. "Do you have a car, Percy?"

He glanced out at the empty drive. "Oh, er...no. I walked."

"Is it far?" Audrey asked.

"No." He fibbed.

"Would you..." Audrey glanced at her mother. "Would you mind if I walked with you?"

"Er...no..." He shoved his hands in his pockets. He'd apparated-the Muggle building he lived in was near the ministry telephone booth, in a whole other part of town, and not particularly a good one. He'd simply have to get rid of her on the way. Or he could confund her, but that would be hard to explain...

"I'll just get my jumper." She disappeared for a moment and then reappeared and followed him out. "I'll be back, Mum."

They walked down the street together. He turned a corner aimlessly, not sure where he was going.

"Um, the best way out the neighborhood is that way."

"Right." He turned completely around and began walking the other way. "Just distracted."

"Look." She began. "I didn't mean to sound pushy or emotional. This is just something that's really important to me right now. I didn't mean to be ugly back there, or unnecessarily rude."

"Copacetic." He murmured. An apology? That's the only reason she'd come and got him into an awkward situation in which apparition was impossible?

She sighed. "Sure it is."

"I assure you, Miss Bones-"

"Audrey."

"Yes, Audrey, I assure you, I understand your meaning and I thank you. No offense was taken. I hardly believe you to be out of line in your sentiment."

Audrey gnawed her lip. "It's a difficult situation, I know you must have dealt with the stereotypical obsessed relative before. I don't mean to come across like that. It was a year ago, but it still matters, and I'm sure you're doing everything you can."

"I am, and you're not." He said. "Er, obsessed, that is. Coming across that way. I know the experience is difficult."

Not likely. She recalled what he'd said earlier about losing people and tentatively posed the question again. "Have you ever had someone close to you killed? Deliberately?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"You are angry, and you feel your world is threatened." Percy stated simply, flatly. "You want them to suffer for whatever reason. Perhaps you're frightened of them. Perhaps you want them to suffer for their wrong. Perhaps you know their death will make you feel better. Perhaps you simply don't believe they deserve to live anymore. So you want justice, you want them punished in whatever way. You want to know who did it, and you want them taken to account. You want to see their face."

"Yes." Audrey said quietly. "Pretty much that. And it's the last one-about not deserving to live."

"Not afraid?"

"Not anymore." She said. After a pause, "Does it ever go away? The wanting for justice?"

Percy shrugged. She ought to be telling him, not the other way around. Fred hadn't been dead three months. Her father was already a year and a half in the ground. "I suppose." He thought back to the red-hot anger he'd felt coursing in him the night of the battle. Half was adrenaline. For the few hours, he had felt rage, and it had sustained him to track Rookwood through the battle and cut him down with Charlie's help. If not quenched, if given time, he reasoned, the rage would have faded. It would have been there still, sometimes nearly forgotten, but sometimes so close to his mind he could lash out and wreck whatever was nearest at hand. It would attach itself to him like a leech and let be let go until satisfied, bursting out at the unhappiest of times. He supposed that was what Audrey was going through.

"With time, perhaps." He said. "You can know now that justice will be brought. Even if you don't know about it, the man's probably already dead. If not, he's in chains. Comfort yourself with that."

"It doesn't help." She sighed. "I don't just want justice. I want truth. I want to know, and I want to know who and why and everything. I'm one of those people who always wants to know everything."

"Pity." Oh, Godric, just like Hermione. Except more considerate and with nicer hair. Long, thick, black hair, which was unusual on a caucasian. He wondered briefly if it was natural.

They walked in silence for a moment more before Percy realized he had no idea where he was. "Er...I'm all off. I'd probably best find a bus from here."

"Yes." She said. "I haven't been paying attention to where we've been going, either." She looked about. "Oh, there. I can make my way back from here."

"I shall see you, then."

"Yes." She paused. "When?"

There was silence. Percy spread his hands. "Well...honestly, I don't know how much farther I can investigate. It's pretty much gone cold. I don't know...I could be calling you tomorrow to say it's closed." And she likely wouldn't want to see him then.

She bit her lip.

Unless...he talked to Malfoy. He stared down at her, again lit by garish muggle light. Her eyes were a pretty, unusual shade of gray…

"Well...I'll see what I can do." He told her. "Perhaps we could meet again...the day after tomorrow?"

"I have a class at one."

"At eleven, then?"

"At the same shop as usual?" She quirked a grin.

"Copacetic." He agreed. "I'll try to have something for you by then." Oh, Herpo's Basilisk, he'd better have something, because she was smiling at him again, just like last time. Well, last time had been a stupid grin. This was a sort of sweet smile, a small smile, but one that meant more. A good deal more.

He needed to go home.

"Bus stop's that way." She pointed. "I'll see you then."

"See you." He bade her farewell and followed her pointed finger. As soon as she was out of sight he apparated away to the alley behind his building and sprinted upstairs into his flat. He was feeling oddly happy as he unlocked the door and undid the charms over it.

He swung the door open and stepped inside and he was back in his world. Where Fred was dead and the government was ashambles and Emerson Gray had been bit by a wer-wolf and there were sadistic supremacists running amuck.

Damn.

He shoved down the familiar feeling of depression. If he had to run to the Leaky and start chugging butterbeer, he would not be depressed tonight. He reminded himself that his flat was not a prison, his world was not a cage. He could get out, he just had, he had been quite happy on a muggle street with a muggle girl, and if he had to personally pulverize Draco Malfoy, he was going to get information out of him. Tomorrow.

With that determination in his mind, he went to the shower, forcing himself to remember how he'd been actually comfortable with Lucy and with Audrey. And he would see them again soon.

Hopefully sooner than later.

And hopefully, not for the last time.


	6. Coming to a Close

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. So…here's this chapter. This chapter goes out to my reviewer, Multicolour-biro. **

**Chapter 6: Coming to a Close**

Percy glanced up from his paperwork, then set down his quill.

Time to see Malfoy.

He left his office and his piles of paperwork behind, headed for the Ministry elevator, and took it up to the street near his flat. From there he ducked out of sight and apparated.

The gates of Malfoy Manor stood just before him. The family had put an apparition charm on the estate since the war. A wise decision, considering the number of enemies they had. In the few months since the Battle of Hogwarts, they had hardly ventured outside the grounds of the estate.

Percy pushed his ministry badge against the gates, and they opened, allowing him up the drive. It was a foggy as a dementor's lair, making it hard for him to see the manor house. Long before he reached it, he heard the sound of a door slamming, then sharp footsteps against the stones of the terrace. He tapped his glasses absentmindedly, setting a charm on them to keep them from fogging up.

A familiar, lanky figure became clearer, and Percy felt his hand on his wand as the two drew nearer. The Malfoy boy had a twisted scowl on his pointed face. His hair had grown slightly shaggy and was falling over his girly face and into his eyes, obscuring them from vision.

Percy gazed at him. Here was as good a place as any to talk; He didn't exactly relish the thought of entering that hellhole of a mansion, and felt badly sorry for whatever Ministry employees had had to clear it of all Dark Magic. "Mr. Malfoy."

"How did you get in?"

"The gates are charmed to obey the command of a Ministry employee." Percy held up his badge. "You didn't think we'd leave filthy pureblood scum the likes of you to your own devices, did you?" The words sounded odd even to him. Charlie and Bill were definitely rubbing off on him. The insults sounded hollow from his usually pompous mouth.

Malfoy's face did not flicker more than a fraction, and he didn't properly respond to Percy's bait. "What do you want?"

"You were on several muggle killing expeditions from 1997 and into 1998, yes?"

"I was cleared." The boy said sharply.

Percy gazed at him. "But you did go?"

Malfoy looked away.

"How many in London?"

"I don't know." The boy muttered, still looking away and at the ground. "Several?"

"Several." Percy wrote that down, though it told him nothing new. He knew it would make the boy nervous. When he looked up, Draco was looking at his quill with fear, as if what it wrote might send him away, away to Azkaban with his father.

Percy drew his attention back to the line of questioning, not really looking at him, but through him, trying to appear intimidating and official, though he wasn't that much older than the boy, considerably less imposing, and admittedly stood far less of a threat in general. "What about in January of 1997?"

The boy shook his head, shoulders slumping slightly, shaggy fringe falling over his face again, and Percy felt almost sick. As a boy, he'd been the Slytherin Prince, ever the prideful powerhouse. Now he looked defeated, not even bothering to hide that he, and his family, were indeed finished. Percy knew he ought to have perhaps felt victory, felt triumph, but a part of him felt sympathy.

_Focus. Don't think about the boy. He murdered Dumbledore. _

_Tried to. Failed. _

_Dumbledore was a useless dodderer anyways. _

_Focus! _

"What do you mean, no?" He snapped.

"I was going on then." Draco said, looking down still. "They didn't force...ask me to go along until summer. Not until after I..." He paused, searched for words. "I didn't..."

Percy let him trail off again and wrote it down. "So you don't know anything about any muggle-bias crimes committed before the murder of Albus Dumbledore." He assumed.

"No."

Percy wanted to scream curses at the constant fog that was hanging over their heads. Instead, he scribbled nothing on his parchment and nodded. "Fine. Did your mother ever go on Muggle-killing expeditions?"

"No!" The boy was insulted at the idea, as Percy had expected.

"Who was going on expeditions in January of 1997?"

"I don't know...new recruits. For training runs." Malfoy still did not look at him.

Excellent. Now all he had to do was question every 'new recruit' amongst the Death Eaters. Half of whom were already beyond sane interrogation already.

"Do you know a man by the name of Michael Bones?"

"No."

"Ever heard the name?"

"No."

"Do you know this man?" Percy pulled out a picture of Bones.

"No."

"Then we are finished, Mr. Malfoy." Percy lowered his quill abruptly and turned on his heel to go, leaving the youth standing still and alone in the lingering fog.

He swept past the gates again and apparated rather than plodding down the sodden road. He landed right back from where he had left, made his way into the telephone booth, down the elevator, back to his own office.

Nothing. Still a zero for motive. Malfoy had been his last hope, and when he'd seen the boy coming, he'd thought that something...some sort of itch had triggered in the back of his mind, and he had been so sure that he would know. Acute disappointment lingered in the air before he shook his head and turned back to his work. He didn't have much to do with only two cases left, but he had to do something with his mind.

At ten until eleven, he rose and left again, arriving at the Muggle shop a few minutes later.

.

"Where you going?"

"For tea and something sugary." Audrey informed the lanky figure beside her.

"Mind if I tag along? I could use some coffee." Davis loped at her side, forcing her to lengthen her strides.

"Coffee? Davis, you're in jolly old England now, you have to drink what the locals drink."

"Bull."

She gave him a look. "And you can come, but you can't come with me."

"Why, pray tell?"

"Because I'm meeting someone."

"Ooooooohh..." He dragged the word out longer than need be, giving an insolently understanding look down at her.

"Not like that!" Audrey gave him a look. "It's...professional."

Davis stopped, a hand on his backpack. "Oh, crap, Audrey, you're not seeing a professor?"

Audrey gave him a scandalised look. "Ethan Davis! I am not!"

"Good." He seemed relieved. "I know you like Professor Murtaugh, but even for vulgar Americans like me, that's a stretch."

"Oh, hush." She trotted down the stairs and started down the sidewalk, leaving their campus behind.

"So who's this professional guy?"

"He's...a policeman, sort of." She said slowly. "He's working on my father's murder case."

"Oh." Davis fell silent. He hadn't started at King's College until a bit after her father's death, but he knew about it.

"So." She tried to remain casual, let him know he didn't have to be awkward about it. "If you want to come, drink your American coffee, sit and watch me, fine. I shall be conversing with the odd-looking detective who uses big words and makes me feel like an idiot, but is somehow very nice at the same time."

"Well, I think I will come along and stalk the two of you, thanks very much." Davis responded cheekily.

Audrey was five minutes early, but he was already there. After shooing Davis off to another table, she ran a hand through her wavy mane and checked to make sure she looked all right. He was nice, and she didn't want to seem like a slob. Or...anything else he might disapprove of.

"Hey." She slid in across from him with a smile. He looked up and nodded, again shuffling what he had been doing off to the side. "All well at work?"

"Er..." She looked happy. Very happy. And he was again here with her, with nothing to tell her. Nothing new at all. "Not as well as it could be."

"Oh?"

"I questioned a...a person of suspicion today, someone who might have been able to tell us something." Percy was surprised at how easy and how nice the words felt falling off his tongue. He could tell people what he was doing, in a way his distant personality did not usually allow. He couldn't tell her everything, but as a partially involved Muggle, he could tell her a little. Another bonus about talking to her that he stored away into his mind for later reflection.

"And?"

"He claims to know nothing, that he wasn't brought in until after your father's death. As for who might have been involved, might know something, he was fairly useless."

She sighed. "Pity. What next?"

Practical, more practical than he had expected. Hope did odd things to people, he surmised. "Now..." He shrugged. All those who might give him answers, might even give him a motive, were dead or kissed or insane. The last trials had begun to wrap up months ago in the hasty sentencing process which was basically a sham, considering that no one even wanted Death Eaters on the loose. They were all gone, and he had no one left to question.

He trailed off into silence, and Audrey felt herself plummet just a bit. "So...you don't know anything more from this questioning you did this morning?"

"No."

"Are you just saying that or is it really true?"

He gave her a look and nudged his glasses upwards. "I assure you, you will be told if the case is solved. It's the details that my office would require me to lie to you about."

"Ah. May I ask you a question, as we seem to have hit a wall?"

"You may ask any number of questions, but I reserve the right not to answer them all."

"What does religion or demonism have to do with any of this?" She asked.

He met her eyes.

"You asked us about that on the first day, why?" She had a hand on her mug, head cocked.

He looked away and noticed a lanky, dark-haired man watching them. "Who is that?" The young man looked away, pretended to be staring at his own table.

"No one, a friend. You're dodging the question."

"Religion occasionally plays some bias in such an organisation." Percy admitted. "Though mostly it's just a way of brainwashing new recruits, not really a motive. I asked because an affiliation with the group would from the outside be considered the worst form of paganism."

"You thought my father was involved in these...people?"

"I thought it possible. It wouldn't be the first time the Dark...er, their commander killed one of his own. I thought he might have been using your father as a liaison, or a pawn, or...anything, really. But all accounts jibe on that. Your father was apparently no such man."

"I should say not." She said, leaning back to sip her tea.

Pity, really, Percy thought almost bitterly. If he'd been under the Imperius, at least he could close the case and be done with it.

Percy glanced over at the man across the shop, who again looked away. "Not terrible subtle, is he?" He remarked.

"He's...American."

"Ah." As if that explained all, Percy nodded and lifted his mug to his lips.

.

Davis coughed loudly as he came up behind Audrey, walking back to campus.

"Oh." Audrey turned. "Oh, Davis, are you still here? I would have thought you would've found something else to do."

"Yeah, no kidding." Davis shoved his hands in his pockets. "So listen, was that a police investigation or a well-planned date?"

"What?"

"You were talking for like an hour. And a half."

"The case is very extensive." She defended herself.

"You were laughing."

Audrey was silent. Had she laughed? They'd drifted off the topic for a while, both of them glad of a distraction. She'd explained about Davis, he was American studying music abroad, they were friends, so on. He'd been curious about the concept of University, had apparently never gone to one (which was curious, really, considering his personality). They'd gotten on the topic of schools, she'd talked about her studies in science...they'd gone on for quite awhile.

Audrey glared up at Davis. "It was not a date. We just...got distracted."

"Obviously. By each other."

"Davis!"

"You're so cute together." He mimicked in a high voice.

She shook her head, but couldn't help laughing. "Why are we even friends, Davis?"

"Because you can cook and your mother loves dinner company."

"Oh, yes." She bobbed her head. "I knew there was a reason."

"And I'm lonely and homesick."

"Hmph."

"And I have nothing better to do than tease you about the guy who just made you laugh when you have had frowney wrinkle-lines on your forehead for the past half-month."

"I have?"

"Yup." He popped the 'p'.

She ran a hand over her brow and stopped. "Well, not much longer."

"What do you think?"

She shrugged. "I think he knows what he's doing, and I think he wants answers." She added in a quieter tone, glancing at the floor. "But I don't think he'll get them. He hasn't really had anything to tell us. I mean, they have leads, but they don't go anywhere. They have 'an idea', but it won't get us to a trial. He just doesn't want to tell us that to our faces. He's just being nice."

"Yeah." Davis seemed to buy into the solemnity of her moment before giving her a sly look. "Or he's keeping it open so he can hit on you."

"Davis, I'm being serious here."

"Uh-huh. But you know it's likely..."

"Oh, go away. You're going to make me late." She checked her watch and quickened her step.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a life, and I'm going to go live it. I can't be late to Biochemistry again."

.

Percy sat wearily down in his office chair, rubbed his hands over his forehead and hair, and then let them rest on his desk.

Higgs. It was looking like Higgs. He had a distinct bite mark due to having one of his teeth ripped out, and though he'd denied ever attacking anyone when Percy had talked to him, the wounds matched others accredited to him. The ginger leant over his desk, scrawling out the details neatly, already on his fifth parchment.

"Perce, you finish that case?"

"Mm?" Percy looked up to see a familiar ginger-haired figure in the doorway.

"I said, _Hello, Glasses, did you finish that case_?" Bill leaned forward to enunciate as if his brother were an idiot.

Percy glared at him. "Which one?"

"The one about the muggle who got murdered."

Percy gave him a look.

Bill grinned, making the mass of scars that was the right side of his face shift awkwardly. "The one that had you so out the last time you came to the Burrow-what, two weeks ago?"

"Er...no. Still nowhere." Percy looked down to fiddle with the papers on his desk. "No, nothing yet." He finished hastily, a little awkwardly. Bill would laugh if he found out Percy had an all new motive for keeping his notoriously troublesome case open as long as possible.

Not that there was anything between himself and Audrey. He just liked being able to spend time out of his own world, that was all. With people, who didn't know about the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters, or the War, or even magic in general. He could pretend, for however short a time, that he was free.

Not at the moment, though.

"Are you hiding something, Perce?"

"No."

Bill was silent for a long moment, arms crossed as he glowered down at his brother. "Come out and have lunch with me, we need to talk."

"Can't, I have to work on this case."

"Which one?"

"Er...Emerson Gray. The only other one I have is the Michael Bones."

"That's the one I was talking about." Bill snatched the file from beneath a pile of parchment on Percy's desk and flipped it open. Percy let his eyes rest on his elder's marred face as Bill skimmed the neat, half-completed report.

"Looks open and shut." As if to demonstrate his point, Bill snapped the brown folder closed.

"It's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not." Percy hastened on. "I don't have a killer. I don't even have a motive."

"Hello, muggle-killing."

"It's not that!" Percy leaned forward to explain his reasoning. "It's not, it makes no logical sense."

"And Death Eaters have to make sense?"

"There is a method to all madness, Bill." Percy lectured. "Even they wouldn't have gone into a closed and empty place for fresh victims, and if they did, they sure didn't enjoy their kill. It's...it's all _off_!"

Bill looked down at him for a long time. "Perce." He said softly. "When was the last time you slept?"

"What day is it?"

Bill shook his shaggy red hair. "Go home. Case closed."

"It isn't."

"Let's not start that again." Bill pointed at him with the brown file. "Percy, it's a muggle-killing. It's an unusual one, but you yourself said that there's no other motive. Put it down to some unknown Snatchers, sport for motive, and close the case. Because you know that's the truth anyways."

"That's not the truth." Percy argued. "There's more."

"Like what?"

"I...I don't know. I just explained, it doesn't make sense. Nothing does. Until it makes sense, the case is opened."

Bill tossed the file onto Percy's desk and seated himself on it, leaning down over Percy. "I know what's going on here, Glasses. And you know it, too."

Percy adjusted his glasses and rolled his eyes, vowing to sit through this but not at any cost stop investigating. "What's going on here, Bill?"

"You. Being you. Ambitious and overdriven."

The legs of Percy's chair came down hard and he stared at his brother. "Ambitious-what? What are you going on about?"

"Close your mouth, Perce, you look like a clownfish. And you know." Bill stuck his finger out. "You just want to get promoted. You're worried that one comma might jeopardize your precious career here at your worshipful ministry, so you're stressing yourself out over nothing and making sure you do everything just so perfect. It's too perfect. You're going too far. You're too ambitious, and it's not good for you, and you know it."

Percy stared at him. "You are insane." He spluttered.

"Do you deny that you've thought about getting back into the Minister's office, and that you've been performing to the best of your ability to further that end?"

"I always perform to the best of my ability!"

"Do you deny it?"

Percy glared up at him. "No." The thought had crossed his mind, sure, but...

"Percy, listen. It could be a hundred years before we find some long-stashed Snatcher's diary and solve this case. If ever. Till then, close it, or file it away as unsolved if it makes you feel better, and forget about it. You will not ruin the rest of your life and Ministry employment if you don't find out every little truth."

"I have to find the truth, it's my job." Percy snapped.

"Sappy." Bill told him. "Your job is to catch criminals. As you're not getting anywhere on this guy," He slapped the folder, "Who's likely already been Kissed anyways, I am ordering you as a brother, to close the case and move on."

Percy leant back, blowing out all his breath, and stared at his brother.

"You. Are. Demented."

"And you are getting nowhere."

Percy rubbed his eyebrow, ignoring his brother. He had a point about getting nowhere. But there had to be some way...

"Perce, I know what I'm talking about. Aurors and the rest, we know. Sometimes it's the only way. There are other responsibilities in other offices."

"Oh, so who's being ambitious now?" Percy glowered at him again.

So he did want a new position, and badly. So he did overacheive constantly. So he was ambitious.

But Bill was missing a vital piece of information: Percy, unlike Bill, liked the Ministry, liked the law and the order found there. Law was what he was applying; order was what he was fighting for. Michael Bones deserved better, he deserved the same closure as all the rest. His family deserved to know the truth. And Percy was going to get it to him.

Because he'd go personally crazy if he had to think about it for the rest of his life.

Percy worked his jaw as the brothers regarded each other. As touching as it was that someone _finally_ had his best interests at heart, Bill was still wrong.

And Percy was not dropping the Bones case, for anything.


	7. Breakthrough

**A/N**_**: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter**_**. I don't think this is as good a chapter (just like the last one), but here we are, finally, at…**

**Chapter 7: Breakthrough**

"No secrets at all?"

"Nothing." Audrey affirmed. It seemed the thousandth time they'd chased the murder in circles, and even she was beginning to go a little mad.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Did he seem strange, distant, do anything out of character in the months up to his death?"

"No." Audrey said. "It very sudden, nothing we looked back on and thought was out of place. And trust me," she added, "I did look back and think about it."

He threw down his pencil and looked away. They had abandoned the coffeeshop to talk outside on a park bench. Audrey regarded him through the steam of her hot chocolate.

"Tell me something."

"Once again, you may inquire of me as to any question you like, I merely reserve the right not to answer them all."

"You're going to close the case, aren't you?"

"No." He looked at her. "Maybe I should. But I don't want to."

"Oh?"

"No."

"May I ask why?" Her idea that he was sparing her and her mother had seemed feasible enough earlier, but when she was around him it sounded silly even to herself. He probably didn't want it to mark up his resume or something.

"Because..." He ran a hand through his hair, again struggling to speak two languages at once without giving anything away. "Because I know how these people operate, and I know there's something here, something really obvious that I'm a moron not to catch. The motive...it's so there, I can almost touch it. It's like when you have a thought and then you forget it and can't remember it again, but it's still right there." He looked at her. "These people...this organisation...they're not subtle. They love bodies on the floor and blood on the walls, they'd have to leave something behind, even if they didn't want to be caught, they'd still leave something...something to keep me guessing."

She watched him, and not for the first time wondered just what this 'Deathly-Eater' group was. They brainwashed new recruits with religious ideas that had something to do with demonism. They killed people out of boredom. They were not well known, yet dangerous enough to merit their own 'special investigation'.

Very dangerous, from what she'd gathered.

"So you think you can solve it?"

"I didn't say that." Percy replied, a slight undertone of bitterness in his voice. "But I am going to try."

_By doing what?_ She wanted to ask, but bit the question back. "And your other cases?"

"All wrapped, but one, and that's only a matter of paperwork." He looked at her wryly. "I find myself with nothing to do, other than try and rack your brains for some seemingly minor tidbit that is in fact crucial."

"You think I know something?"

"You or your mother. Like I said, these people are not subtle. They come, they kill, they go, and they're finished in minutes, gone forever, but still," He looked down at empty drink in his hands, "There is a reason, related to your father. You are related to your father. If they'd left some tantalizingly obscure clue, they'd leave it with you, or at the scene."

"But you checked the bakery."

"I know." He said heavily.

Audrey regarded him for a long moment, taking in his bright hair. "Well. Don't you think it more likely they would have left it with my mother?"

"Possibly." He shrugged.

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes and stood, uncrossing her legs. "Come on, we'll go talk to her."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"Unless you have something better to do." She looked down at him. "Which you just said you didn't."

He pinched back a smile and rose with her, tossing his empty cup in a trash can. "Copacetic."

"What does that even mean?" They began walking down the sidewalk.

"It means..." He paused. "It means _fine, excellent, that will do, agreeable_."

"Why not just say fine?"

"_Why_ just say fine?"

She had to concede his point.

.

Lucy glanced up as the door opened. "Audie?"

"Me, Mum!"

"Your little friend Davis came by." Lucy called in the general direction of the foyer.

"Oh, he did, did he?"

Percy glanced at Audrey as she set down her school bag with a heavy thump that reminded him of his own school days, and led him forward into the kitchen. "You and Davis are...close?"

"Mm, very." Audrey saw her mother turn as she heard Percy's voice. "I managed to get one of my friends to go out with him and he's eternally grateful enough to keep bugging me now that she's abroad." She joked.

"Why, Percy, what a surprise." Lucy rose and came forward to greet her daughter. "Or, do you truly prefer Mr. Weasley?"

"Percy is fine." He assured her as Lucy turned her eyes on her daughter.

"I just thought we'd pop in, you know, some for the case, and some because it's close to dinner." Audrey gave her mother a look she hoped Percy didn't notice. Lucy immediately returned the look and then covered it quickly.

"Of course! Percy, would you mind taking this," She handed him a basket of the bills she'd been paying, "And leave it on the desk in the front room?"

"Certainly, madam." Percy was no idiot, but he knew how to act like one. He took the basket and left.

He wasn't properly gone before both women turned to one another.

"Oh, so he's staying for dinner, is he?" Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, a shrewd and mocking grin teasing at her mouth.

"Mum, it's not like that. I feel sorry for him. I don't think he has anywhere else to go. I mean, no family, so..."

"You feel sorry..." Her mother cocked her head, the smile coming full force now. "And, what else do you feel, Audrey?"

Audrey swatted at her with a dish towel, and her mother muffled a giggle.

"Shush, you don't want him to hear you!" Audrey glanced back toward the doorway.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Audie, he's no idiot. He knows we're talking about him. It's not like it isn't obvious." She leaned forward conspiritorially. "And you know, I don't think he'd mind it. He's probably flattered."

"Mum! I brought him here because we were talking, and I don't think he has any family, and you love company, and I know screwed up dinner last time, so it's just...er..."

Her mother raised a brow, waiting for her to complete her sentence.

"Just that I feel sorry for him." Audrey finished in a rush.

One eyebrow came down on her mother's face, and she stepped around Audrey to check a dish on the counter. "All right, Love."

"All right."

"But I think he's very nice. I'd marry his father."

"Mum!"

"I'm only kidding, darling, now would you go tell him we've finished talking about him behind his back and he can stop pretending he got lost on the way to the front room?"

Audrey slapped a palm down on the counter and left both good-naturedly and with annoyance, hearing her mother say behind her,

"Get your own boyfriend, my dear daughter, or I shall find one for you."

She turned the corner and stepped past the dining room. And paused in the open doorway of the front room. Percy was leaning on the desk, arms crossed. Waiting for her. His face showed he was perfectly aware. "Er...sorry...about that." She tucked her hair back.

"I have a mother." He said, not moving except to shrug. "She does that often."

"Ah."

"Is is safe for me to come out?"

"Yes." She was blushing a little as she led him back. "I just had to explain..."

"I understand." He said as he entered. "And if I am any inconvenience…"

"Not at all." Lucy interrupted him pleasantly. "Unfortunately, Audrey chose o bring you on a day when we were having leftovers. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." He replied in his turn.

"I didn't think so." She raised a brow as Audrey reached for the plates. "Judging from the looks of you, you wouldn't know the difference between fresh-cooked, leftovers, or a frozen dinner."

"I wouldn't." He admitted openly.

"What do you usually eat?"

"Whatever's at hand." He replied, stepping in to help set the table.

"I thought as much." Lucy nodded knowingly.

"Which is code for, you don't eat. Much." Audrey added.

"Essentially." Percy agreed.

"Your work keeps you busy?"

"I try to make it so." Percy replied as the food was set and they all slipped into their chairs.

Lucy kept the conversation light, intentionally straying away from serious discussion of the case. Percy didn't mind it in the least, but paid close attention, his ingrained work ethic not allowing his brain to shut off…almost to his annoyance, actually. He wouldn't have minded relaxing again as he had last time, but tonight he was tense.

Audrey had only to glance across the table to see the wheels grinding in Percy's head. She had figured by now that he was the sort who never really stopped working, and she had realized in the past few minutes that he was delicately trying to steer the conversation away from himself and toward the two women and their lives. She smiled and complied, allowing her mother and he to talk on about his work, a topic which morphed quickly into her work...which morphed into her past employment...the story of how Michael and Lucy met...and finally, Michael.

Lucy abruptly turned the tables when she paused with her glass halfway to her lips and asked, "What about your parents, Percy? What does your father do?"

Percy swallowed slowly. "Madam?"

"Well, you know all about the man of our house, it's only fair we know about yours."

Percy smiled faintly...and almost, a little tightly. "I am the man of my own house." He said, almost to himself, before adding casually, "My father is in government."

"Oh? What department?"

"Er...law enforcement." A partial truth. He rubbed his eyebrow and noticed Audrey's gaze fixed on his finger. He had to train himself not to do that, it was a dead giveaway in moments when lying was fairly crucial.

"Ah. And your mother?" Lucy must have caught the eyebrow-rub as well, but was pretending to be pleasantly oblivious.

"She..." Percy thought a moment. "Never had a career." Being the sporadic annihilator of sadistic psychopaths did not count as a career. At least not to Percy's mind. Even if it had been, he wouldn't have been able to explain it to these two women in their clean house with their clean lives.

Lucy was pulling the topic around to his family, and he struggled to swing it back away from himself and fix attention on these two. Conversation had always been such a pickle to him.

Audrey, however, seemed to get his drift, and, hijacking her mother's line of pressing, began chatting about her own career in the making. There was a lot about sciences, most of which Percy didn't understand, but he nodded pleasantly and pretended for the time being he knew something about it. He was slightly appeased to notice that most of what was being said was going straight over Lucy's head as well.

Dessert came, and Lucy insisted that Percy remain seated as she and Audrey rose to get coffee and clear plates.

"What are you doing?" Audrey hissed once they were within the confines of the kitchen.

"I'm only making conversation."

Audrey gave her a look. "You're acting like Dad did that time I brought Jimmy Dempsey home from school."

"I am not! I am only trying to pull some information from him, about his background, his family, his job..."

Audrey shut her eyes as her mother filled the mugs. "Mum, what did you eat before we came? Or did Davis say something? You've only got one thing on your mind tonight..."

"And it's an enjoyable evening." Her mother replied slightly saucily before turning to go.

.

Percy again offered to help clean up and again the two accepted.

"May I ask you a question, Percy?" Lucy reached for a dish towel.

"You may ask any question you like; I merely reserve the right not to answer those of my choice."

"Not about the case."

"Oh." He seemed apprehensive as he waited.

"Did you _really_ grow up on a chicken farm?"

Percy unsuccessfully stifled a smile. "Yes, Madam."

"That's...unusual."

"Did you _work_ on the chicken farm?" Audrey asked. "Or did you just own it?"

"I worked."

"Hmmm...I can't quite imagine you cleaning out chicken coops and collecting eggs."

"And devising ever-new ways to kill the chickens, I suppose you can't see that, either."

"No, to be honest." Audrey admitted. "I can't. Especially not that."

"You'd be right." He put away the dishes this time as she washed them. "That was actually my brother's department." He didn't mention that he had actually not worked much with the chickens, at least not as much as the rest. His mother had preferred him to do housework because of his penchant for keeping clean clothes.

"How many brothers?" Audrey asked.

"Five."

"_Five_?" She looked up at him quickly, her hands slipping a little on a soapy dish. He caught it before it could fall and turned to put it away. "Well, I suppose you never got lonely."

_You have no idea..._ Percy began in his head. In the open, he simply fit the dish into the odd rack-inside-a-box that these Muggles seemed to like putting their new-washed dishes in, and gave a shrug. "Well, there was always a lot going on." He replied noncommittally.

"Are you the oldest?"

"No. Third of seven."

Lucy bit back a laugh. "Seven children and a farm. Your mother must be quite a woman."

_Again, you have no idea._

"Yes, madam, she is. Though I don't think having the children was as intentional as having the farm was."

"I believe it. I can't imagine." Lucy said, finishing her cleaning and taking a seat again.

"Why couldn't I have had some siblings?" Audrey tossed back at her mother.

"You can have half of mine." Percy said drily, ignoring the fact that she'd accidentally splashed him a little with the faucet.

"I'll take them." Audrey said readily. "You two should have adopted, Mum."

"We did, Love." Her mother reminded her.

"But more. Davis has three siblings, and Colleen has four, and now Percy has _six_."

"And some of them were likely adopted." Lucy fired back good-naturedly. "Were they, Percy?"

Percy rubbed his neck. "Well...no, actually. Though we have taken in several since. My mother, she likes strays."

"Maybe she'll adopt you, then, Love."

"Maybe." Audrey replied, keeping her eyes on the sponge and the soap suds, not sure if her mother was simply jesting or dropping a hint. "But I think once is enough for a lifetime."

Percy paused, his eyes flicking between the two of them. Lucy's mousy brown hair, now graying, her tanned skin, and her dark grey eyes. Audrey's hair black, her complexion fair, and her eyes a pale grey...

"You're adopted."

"Oh, yeah." Audrey replied. "A long time ago."

Something seemed to constrict somewhere in Percy's brain.

"Your real parents..." He tried to sound casual, but he knew his urgency slipped through a little onto his words.

Audrey shrugged, still washing dishes, still oblivious. "I don't know. We never knew, they just dumped me the day I was born, and Dad said he knew the minute he and I looked at each other that I was his." She cast a casual glance up at the tall redhead beside her. "Mum and Dad couldn't have children of their own."

She stopped. He had a peculiar expression on his face as if he were being choked.

"What is it?" Lucy asked from across the room.

"Why didn't you mention that before?" Percy's words fell out in a rush, harsh and demanding.

Audrey jumped a little, dropping a spoon. "I...Why should I have?"

_Idiot. Percival Ignatius Weasley, you complete and utter moron_.

"Because that's motive!" He said almost without realizing it, his legs moving of their own volition, carrying him quickly out of the kitchen and to the foyer. His briefcase, his files...

Audrey threw down her sponge and followed him, Lucy right behind her. "What? What's...How is that motive? How is that important?" She could begin to form some sort of scenario even through her questions, but still she was desperately begging him to make it all clearer.

"She's a squib!" Percy seemed to be swearing at his jacket as he pulled it off the wall. Abruptly seeming to realize they were still there, he turned. "The police. There must be some sort of record of it, some sort of...investigation..."

"They never found the real parents, they never knew." Lucy stammered.

"Have to go." He snatched up his briefcase. "Thankyouverymuch, IhavetogotoTheHallofRecords!" He threw open the door and immediately shut it after him hard.

Audrey jumped at it as it closed, hearing a slight _pop_ which she assumed was one of her joints cracking. Grasping the door handle and throwing open the door, she stopped and stared out at the doorstep, the walkway, the front lawn, the street.

Nothing.

He was nowhere to be seen.

Lucy was beside her. "Where did he go?"

"I don't know." Audrey replied, her voice reeking of bafflement.

Lucy pulled her inside and shut the door. The two women faced each other.

"Is that it?" Audrey whispered. The time seemed appropriate for whispering. "Is it because of me? Am I..._motive_?"

Lucy was staring fixedly into the distance.

"I have no idea."


	8. Family History

**A/N**_**: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter**_**. **

**A few swear words here, but nothing serious. **

**Chapter 8: Family History**

_Fool. Utter, utter, moron. _

Percy landed with a pop and a thud at the Muggle Po-lice headquarters. He wasn't sure exactly kind of red tape would normally restrict a case file simply being handed over to him, but he had a badge to be used in emergency...and a wand if he needed to use a confundus.

It had been right there. All this time.

Adrenaline seemed to be flying, but he tried to contain himself, tried not to think about it. He knew, knew that this had to be it, this had to be the answer, but a small part of him preserved the rational argument that this, like so many other leads, might not pan out, might be nothing.

What had she said?

_"I spent all my time at the restaurant...I was practically born there..." _

He flashed his badge and stressed the urgency of getting the file. The man behind the desk gave him and his unfamiliar badge an odd look, but set to work.

But this couldn't be nothing. This had to be it. It had been itching at the back of his mind all this time, and there it was. If only he could get a handle on it, get a grasp and finally, finally finish this stupid case and get on to his new job...

_"You say you come here often?" _

_"Yes, ever since I was a baby." _

Within minutes, the file had been procured by some means of Muggle technology beyond Percy's understanding or care. He took it in its clean folder and turned, apparating as soon as he was off the street again.

At his apartment, he impatiently took down his security wards and shoved open the door, stumbled over his own feet on his way to the couch, and threw Audrey's file down atop the coffee table.

Now. Now he would read the whole story, from beginning to end.

.

George Weasley woke to a palpitating headache and a queasy stomach. He rolled off the bed, feeling just how hard it was beneath him. Standing unsteadily, he realized suddenly that he had no idea where he was.

It was dark. The bed was hard. He needed...

Firewhiskey.

Some light filtered in through a half open door, and he staggered toward it, stepped out, winced at the light. In the kitchen, he stared dumbly at the scrubbed cabinets, opened them one by one.

No firewhiskey.

Damn.

He turned and looked about, unsure. Liquor cabinet...he started for where he somehow knew the living room was. He did not remember where he was until he saw a flaming red head of hair hunched over on the sofa. Oh, yes.

There would be no firewhiskey here.

Damn.

He stood over his brother for a moment, before opening his mouth to croak. "Perzy?"

A strangled gasp and an unabashed curse slipped from Percy's mouth as he jumped. Papers were flying like confetti in a mess on the floor. "Holy—George!"

George stared at him blearily.

"What are you doing here?"

"You don' have any firewhiskey." George said stupidly, his voice cracking on the last word.

Percy stared at him, then took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Replacing them, he took on an unfamiliar tone that was far easier on George's hangover-impaired hearing.

"No, George, I don't have any firewhiskey. Do you want some pumpkin juice?"

"No."

"How about milk? Anything?"

"Whiskey."

"George, I'm not giving you whiskey. You reek."

"What you doing?"

"I'm...working." Percy seemed to remember suddenly the papers he had scattered in his alarm, seemed surprised that he could have forgotten them. He knelt quickly and began to gather them, put them into a small stack and set them on the coffee table. "Come on, now, George, let's get you to bed."

"I just woke up."

"Well...It's night. It's time to sleep again." Percy began to guide George toward the bedroom. God knew what had possessed his brother to come here tonight, God knew how he had remembered all the security wards required to get into the flat, but he was here, Percy would just have to deal with him. The slightly scorched scent of firewhiskey was still on his brother. "Do you want to take a shower?" A bath was out of the question. He'd drown himself.

George nodded dumbly and Percy set him up with his usual efficiency. George just sat and stared at him as he scurried around, not fully sober. He must have been here hours, yet hadn't slept off the full effects of the alcohol. Hopefully a shower would clean him up a bit, as he seemed highly disinclined to go back to bed. He had stuck his lip out at the thought. Oh, Godric, but he was inebriated.

George struggled through the shower, and Percy gave him some of his own things to wear and threw his brother's clothes in the dirty laundry pile.

"You don' have any food."

"Is there something you want? That's not whiskey?" Percy added.

George yawned. "I want...potatoes. An' a pain potion." His hand went to his head.

Percy started off to the kitchen to discover that all his pain potions had been mysteriously drunk and the bottles smashed. What little food he had kept about was gone too, though most of it had spoilt months ago.

"George, I'll get you some pain potion, I'll just be right back." He promised, leaving George on the bed.

He took down the wards on his door and hurried out, in haste to get back.

.

"Here," Audrey turned up the stairs and stopped before number 2B. With a glance at her mother, she raised a hand and knocked. And waited a long moment.

No answer.

The women exchanged glances, and Audrey checked the address. Knocked again.

No answer. There was an odd sound to the knock.

She was about to knock a third time when footsteps caught her attention.

Percy was coming up the stairs at a hasty rate, a brown wrapped package in his hands. He topped the last step and stopped as the saw the two of them.

He took a moment to remember what was going on. Right. Audrey Bones. The case. Damn. He had forgotten-he'd asked them to come over not a half hour ago, and here they were, and now he had George on his hands. And in his hands, a package of pain potions and some food for George.

"Oh." That was as eloquent as he was going to get tonight, he realized as he tried to figure out a plan. What to do, what to say, how to keep George away from Audrey, how to fix this...all of this.

They were staring at him.

"Right. Sorry." He jumped at it. "Er..." The wards. He sidled between Audrey and the door, pretending to unlock it with a key as he took down the various spells he had deemed necessary in his post-war paranoia.

He pushed open the door, desperately hoping George was asleep again. "Take a seat. I'll just be a moment, I'm sorry I wasn't here. I had to run an errand."

"Fine." Audrey and her mother stepped toward the sofa as Percy disappeared into a back room.

"Oh, look at his library." Lucy gazed around appreciatively at the shelves lining the walls completely. There was not an ugly book among them, every volume given the dignity of a leather binding and some form of lettering on the spine. Audrey ran her hands along them, many in foreign languages, some in script she could not recognize.

A door closed and Audrey turned to find Percy reentering the room. She scrutinized him as he came forward.

He wasn't himself. The case seemed to have...flustered him out of the ordinary. His hair was ruffled up slightly, and the top button on his shirt was undone. He'd shed his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves. A thick, pale scar showed on one arm, and a hint of a tattoo peeked out from the opposite sleeve, surprising her. Somehow Percy Weasley did not seem the type for a tattoo. His expression was no longer reserved, drawn, professional. Tonight he just looked tired and...vulnerable. There was a long wooden stick hanging crookedly out his back pocket.

"Right." He gestured to the couch. "Sit. I've pulled what information I can on you and the circumstances of your birth. I'll need to talk to you both, and to...anyone else who might have been there, seen anything."

Audrey sat, but leaned forward. "So you think my adoption has something to do with the murder?"

"Likely." Was all he said. "Now. The 13th of January, 1977."

"My birthdate."

"What happened?"

Lucy jumped in. "One of the dishwashers at the restaurant found a baby in the bakery, a newborn. They called police and she would have gone into the foster system."

"Who left the baby?"

"You read the file." Audrey gestured to the mixed-up papers on his table. "No one knows. No one knows how I got into the building, because obviously anyone carrying a newborn would have been noticed. They must have come just before I was found, right in the middle of the dinner rush, and left without being seen."

"Is there anyone who worked there then I could talk to?" He steepled his fingers. "I'll need to talk to the dishwasher who found you, and a manager."

"They're both long gone." Lucy said. "Quit the restaurant after a few years. The manager then was named James, he moved to a better position in France and we lost contact."

"All right...If I can get a name for the dishwasher, I can get her story. I'll need to visit the Hall of Records, too..." Percy paused and ran his hand through his hair, messing it up more.

Lucy checked herself. "You've been working very hard, you must be tired. We can talk about this later."

"No..." He started to say.

Someone fumbled at the door. Someone in a rush. Percy's head shot up.

The door burst open and Bill rushed in, slamming it behind him. "Perce!"

"Bill—"

"Is George here? Have you seen him?"

Audrey glanced between the two men, aware of the distinct similarities, and differences. Both tall, lanky, both with bright red hair. The similarities ended there. While Percy dressed and appeared professional and aloof, this man was dressed in black leather and jeans, the air about him casual rather than reserved. This man's hair was long, even shaggy, his face covered with severe scarring. Despite the difficulty of discerning his expression through the scars, his tone was dripping worry and urgency, an urgency matched in the lines on Percy's face. Audrey suddenly began to get the uncomfortable feeling that she might not be the only problem on Percy Weasley's plate tonight.

"He's in my room." Percy replied. "What's going on?" He cast a hasty, almost careless glance at the two women as he followed the new man to the back of the flat. "Excuse me a moment."

"We've been looking everywhere for him, all over the country!" The stranger shut the door behind the two, but not completely. Audrey was subconsciously straining her ears to hear the rest. "Why didn't you tell us he was here? Where have you been?"

"I was...working. How was I to know you were looking for him?"

"We tried to get a hold of you. We checked here, and no one was here, and you weren't at your office." The stranger's tone was accusatory.

"Well, maybe when you were here you should have checked the bedroom. He must have been here hours before I got home."

"We did check the bedroom, and he wasn't here." The stranger snapped. "And why weren't you?"

There was a long pause before Percy replied stiffly, "I was working."

"Right, how could I have forgotten?" It was almost a shout this time. "You're always working!"

There was a long pause and Percy's tone grew quieter, so quiet Audrey had a hard time making out exactly what he said.

"You should have sent me a Patronus."

Percy could feel Bill's annoyance, knew that it was fueled by worry for his brother, yet didn't know how to appease it. He had been out, content, whilst Bill and Charlie had been apparating all over the country trying to catch a drunken George before he did something truly stupid. And he had remembered abruptly in the midst of trying to defend himself that there were two women in the next room, one a muggle, the other a muggle-raised squib, and they couldn't hear this. It simply wasn't professional.

But Bill's last words still stung with the familiar sting left over from the war days. _Always working, you foul, power-hungry moron..._

The long pause gave Bill a chance to catch a hold of himself and take a breath. "I didn't know if you were in the muggle world. It would have been risky." He said, also in a lowered tone. "I'll just...I'll just take him now."

"No." Percy said. "He's sleeping, let him lie."

He couldn't really see Bill's face in the dark, but he knew he was quirking one eyebrow. "Sure?"

"I'm sure. Send Charlie a Patronus, let him know."

"All right." Bill resolved quietly. "Go on out, then."

Percy sighed, ran his hands through his hair once more, and turned to go out again.

Audrey and Lucy were still sitting, talking quietly. When Lucy saw him coming, she stood. "I think we'd better go, Percy, if this isn't a good time." Her voice was compassionate. Pitying. And the last thing he wanted was pity.

"No." He said briskly. "First we need to see when we can talk again. If Michael Bones left any sort of testimony regarding finding Audrey, I'll need that. I'll also need adoption papers, and we'll have to get a blood sample from Audrey to see if it matches up to any Death…I mean, any criminals."

"Wait." Audrey looked up at him. "You're saying you think my biological parents did this? The murder, I mean?" The possibility that her parents might be the villains had obviously never crossed her mind.

Well, she was in for a shock. He stared down at her, again taking note of her eyes. They were pale gray in her heart shaped face. "They got rid of you, didn't they?"

"But..."

The door burst open again and Charlie nearly fell into the room. "George's here?"

"Bedroom." Percy said automatically, not even looking at his elder brother, but instead gathering the papers on the table. They were a mess. He was a mess. George was a mess. The entire evening was a mess.

He turned suddenly. "Wait, Charlie."

Charlie turned. "What?"

"How would I...If I needed to get an interview with someone in Azkaban, how would I do that?"

Charlie shrugged. "Talk to Shacklebolt, get permission, go to Azkaban, have a chat, come back."

"I mean, if I wanted to get them here."

Charlie shook his head. "Not happening. You know the rules. They go into Azkaban, they never come out. If you want to see an inmate, you go to them. And you'd have to talk to Shacklebolt, since he's probably one of the only people who knows where it is."

Percy rubbed his forehead. He knew that was true. He knew that the location to Azkaban was contained in the Minister's secret book. "Right. Thanks."

"Sure." Charlie turned and disappeared through the door.

Percy turned back to the Boneses. "Thank you for your time. I have some work to do."

"I'm sorry..."

"No, no. I asked you over first, and then he showed up right after..." Percy gestured vaguely, then dropped his hand and shrugged. "I shall be in contact."

Audrey paused on her way out the door. "Can you...can you tell me the name of my parents at least? You obviously have some idea..."

"No, not yet." He said. "I'll let you know when I know." He shut the door.

Audrey looked at her mother with worry. "What do you think?"

"I think that poor boy needs to relax." Her mother tugged her purse onto her shoulder as both started down the stairs. "And you know, your father and I did keep a journal together."

"I know. So?"

"And you know he wrote an entry the night he found you. I used to read it to you, when you were little. That might...help...I don't know."

Audrey tucked her arm into her mother's. "I think anything might help. I mean, who would have thought my being adopted would make this much a difference?"

"That's true..." Her mother's mind was elsewhere. "Poor boy."

Halfway down the stairs, they were passed by a fourth redhead, this one tall and bulky.

.

Percy downed a pain potion for his migraine, braced himself, and softly entered the bedroom, leaned against the doorjamb.

George was still splayed across the bed, snoring a little. He looked oddly like a baby to Percy right now. Like a tired-out little boy. Bill was half-lying on one side of him, and Charlie was on his other side.

Just like when they were kids, only then it had been Percy in the middle. At some point he had stopped being the brother who had to sleep securely in the middle. Now George was in his place. George needed help where FredandGeorge never had before, and Percy was relegated to finally being to one to whom he looked. He might have thought once he'd enjoy such a position of authority.

He wasn't enjoying it a bit.

"What do we do with him?" Charlie asked.

"He can stay the night. Or day. One of you had better go tell Mother and Father he's here."

"I already sent Dad a Patronus." Bill replied.

Pounding on the door. Percy sighed, went to the door, and took down the wards yet again. "You know, Ron, you do know all the spells..."

"I forget them. I remembered half of them."

"Did Mother send you?"

"She wants George at the Burrow. And she yelled at Lee."

"Where is Lee? Aren't he and Angelina supposed to be watching George? They do live with him."

"I think Lee's drunk, too, and Angelina..."

"Kicked him out, I hope." Percy had never liked that Lee Jordan, though his family considered him 'a good kid'. He was as bad an influence on the twins as they had been on him, in Percy's opinion. "Well, you go tell Mother that George isn't moving all night."

"I can't tell her that! She's already in a rage."

"Well then send Harry." Percy snapped irritably. "She'd never shout at him." He turned on his heel and returned to the bedroom, leaving Ron looking both puzzled and insulted at the same time.

Charlie and Bill were talking...something about Mundungus Fletcher. Percy tried to listen to them and work at the same time, gathered his things to get into the shower.

Tomorrow he had to see about getting to Azkaban.

And Mundungus Fletcher had been selling Lee Jordan certain substances...to use in more Wizard Wheezes products...

No, he'd get a paternity test first. He'd be sure, then he'd talk to Shacklebolt about Azkaban.

And if Lee had such substances, there was a chance George might have got a hold of them...

Actually going to Azkaban would be his last option. He hated that place, feared it.

They'd have to get the truth out of George once he was awake and sober.

And he'd have to fabricate some truth to satisfy the Boneses.

And they'd have to keep a watch on George, make sure he didn't disappear again...

Or wasn't that the duty of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee?

Who knew what he'd done while he was missing.

Percy shut the bathroom door and tried to clear his head with a hot shower and plenty of steam.

This morning he'd had nothing to do other than try to rack Audrey's brains for clues. Now he had too much to do.

Tomorrow would be a busy day.


	9. Workday

**A/N**_**: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter**_**. **

**_EDIT: As the computer-inept little bookworm that I am, I'm having a bit of trouble with my computer/ the website. It may be a while until my next update..._**

**Chapter 9: Workday**

Percy woke to find himself dangerously close to falling off his own bed. George was curled up against him, while Charlie was on the other side of the bed in a lump of blankets.

His alarm was going off. It was 5:00.

The lump of blankets swore.

Percy turned it off. "Charlie!"

More swearing.

"Give me some covers!"

"_Mm-mmph, mmph-um_!"

With a sigh and a yawn, he pushed George's clinging grasp away and pulled himself out of bed. Halfway through the shower, his alarm went off again.

"I think I'm going to hurl." George complained as Charlie studied their breakfast options.

"Er, Perce, you don't have any food."

"I know." Percy buttoned his shirt. "George ate it all. Hence the oncoming hurl." He added with a look down at his bleary younger brother.

"Did I pass out?"

"In a way."

"Who's the girl?"

George and Percy stopped at the same time to look at Charlie. "What?"

Charlie ran a hand over his face and yawned wider than was commonly accepted. "There was a girl here. Last night. You were talking when I came in."

"Oh. Audrey."

"Who's she?" George asked.

"She's involved in this case I have going." Percy told him dismissively as he tied his tie.

"Percy, it's 5:30. Where are you going at 5:30?"

"Work."

"The tea's not done yet." Charlie pointed at the simmering pot sitting over the stove.

George yawned again.

"I know." Percy sat at the small table, turning his attention from Charlie to George. "How are you feeling?"

"Headache. Hungry."

Percy checked his watch. "Charlie, take George down the street. There's a shop I drop by often, get yourselves something for breakfast."

"Where're you going?"

"Work." Percy said. That ought to have been obvious by now. "I already said that."

Charlie tugged out three mugs and used his wand to fill them with tea. "No you're not. Ministry workers don't have to show up until eight, eight-thirty."

"Well, it pays to get ahead."

"No it doesn't. They don't pay you at all."

"It's a figure of speech, Charlie." Percy told him.

"Sit. Drink. You invited a girl here, and now you rush off when you don't need to." Charlie flicked his eyes toward George to make clear his meaning. "What's with work?"

Percy sat reluctantly, setting his briefcase away. "I've just had a bit of a lead on a case. My last case."

"Oh?"

"It's a murder, and I'm sure...I'm almost certain of who it was." Percy tried not to sound too proud, but he could tell from Charlie's eye roll that he had not been entirely successful.

"So?"

"So...?"

"So who is it? Chances are I know him."

Percy allowed a pompous air to slip into his voice. "Charlie, you know that the inner workings of the Ministry for Magic are confidential and not to be treated or spoken of lightly. And," He added with a glare, "They are not to be considered proper breakfast fodder."

"Suit yourself." Charlie shrugged. "But she was pretty cute."

"What?"

"Who?" George asked as if he had just realized they were talking. That probably wasn't far from the truth, Percy thought.

"The girl! The girl we're talking about."

"We are not talking about a girl."

"Yes we are." Charlie contradicted him purely for the sake of contradicting his younger brother.

Percy rose to put his mug away, signaling the conversation's end. "I'm going to work."

"Fine." Charlie shrugged. "But we all know that if you don't want to talk about it, it's because there's something there."

"Good-bye Charlie." Percy pulled on his jacket.

"You love to talk about the things you hate, and you clam up about the things you like. Ever notice that, George?"

"Good-bye George. Feel free to stay and don't forget to have Charlie get you some breakfast. And don't touch my books."

"Like Penelope Clearwater. You wouldn't talk about her, either."

Percy shut the door behind him firmly. Audrey was pretty and he was less stressed around her, but that was none of Charlie's business. Especially the part about where Percy had been admiring her throat.

No, Charlie was not going to find out about that.

He started for the Ministry telephone booth, just a block away.

_Bother Charlie. _

.

He checked the Hall of Records first. The long rows of stored books and scrolls seemed to go on forever, the tags on the scrolls fluttering like trapped moths as he passed by. He found the correct section and checked the family tree.

There was no record of Audrey. It was a perfect, unblemished family tree stretching back hundreds of years, all the way back to legendary figures of myth, referred to as 'gods' by the muggles.

He wasn't swayed by his finding, or lack thereof. This was Audrey's family, he was certain of it. The Ministry didn't keep records of Squib births, but there ought to at least have been a note to record that she existed for census and tax purposes. The parents had obviously determined her magical status early...or she was half-blood, which would have meant she was illegitimate as well. Percy paused at the thought.

Perhaps the mother's husband didn't know...in which case he'd best pay a visit to the ancestral home of the family as well. He put that on his mental to-do list and turned to head out. He would pass the suspected mother's family records on the way. A check of those records also found no mention of Audrey.

An illegitimate half-blood squib. A triple curse to an illustrious family of pureblood wizards. It was a miracle Audrey hadn't simply been murdered before birth. It would have saved a great deal of trouble.

He stepped into the lift and pushed the button for his floor.

And yet...would a pureblood witch really lower herself to such a level? To even create the possibility of conceiving a half-blood child? Not likely.

He entered his office, started running through what he had, trying to put things together. The office was quiet at this hour, and he worked undisturbed for some time. MacDougal, the department head, passed by once, and the ginger looked up to greet him, but other than that he was alone until the rest of the workers arrived for their workdays. Percy noted with a smirk that the witch working at the desk across from him had quite a bit of work still to do. With his workload nearly done, he would be the first to be relocated out of this office. Promotion would be sweet.

.

"Azkaban?"

"Yes, Mr. Minister." Percy was on the edge of his chair.

Shacklebolt steepled his fingers, studying Percy. "Are you sure that's wise?"

Percy shrugged, shoving down nervousness. He knew the Minister's reservations, knew his own reservations. But professionalism and professional reason squelched them and pushed him to his response. "I...It is necessary, sir. For a visit and an...interview with one of the inmates." He had already explained himself to the man across the desk, knew that now he had to convince him of his resolve.

"Perhaps it would be wiser to send another." Shacklebolt responded.

"No. No, sir, I want to do this myself." Percy could feel his palms sweating. "I know the case, and I am acquainted with the particular inmate, and I hope we both agree that I am quite familiar with our corrections system. I do not think that any other could take this case from my hands and conclude it with a diligence and understanding equal to my own. Therefore I must ask again that you give me both official permission and means to get to Azkaban Prison. And," He added, "I hope that my past period of performance under your authority has not tarnished your view of my capabilities. Indeed, I had imagined that I had already established my willingness and my ability to you, sir." He finished, keeping his eyes on the Minister's.

The Minister's face was unreadable, and Percy did not try to read it. At last, he rested his hands on his desk and nodded. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. As I am sure you are aware, there are shipments of new prisoners being sent to Azkaban each month. The next will leave on the first of August. My secretary will ensure that the paperwork is in order."

"Thank you, sir." They both rose, and shook hands.

Percy readjusted his glasses once he was outside. The Minister always made him feel small, always weak. But he had got what he wanted. Casting a derisive glance over at the lone, overworked assistant sitting behind the desk, he crossed the room and headed for the lift.

.

Lucy climbed the stairs to the attic, each one creaking beneath her. She paused when she was at the top, taking in her bearings.

The boxes of the journals she and Michael had kept together were all together, neatly labeled by years. She tugged open the one that held the journals more than twenty years old.

Spiral-bound notebooks filled the boxes. She still didn't have the heart to throw them away, knew she never would. Downstairs in her bedroom she still kept the one they had been filling out when he had died. It was only half-finished, the pages left blank signifying just how gone he was. She had tried keeping the journal on her own, but it was lacking something without his familiar, cramped handwriting there beside hers.

Shaking her head, she pushed through the box. The one in which Audrey first appeared was red, she remembered that, for it had been one that she had flipped open often, almost as often as the one chronicling the first days of marriage.

Here. This one. She opened it and read the entry again, the words written by his blue pen familiar by now. Then she flipped ahead, to the days of paperwork, and finally, the day of adoption.

She left the box where it lay and traveled back downstairs with the book in hand.

.

He headed for the Boneses residence. They'd made it clear that he was more than welcome if he had to come for work purposes. Lucy had commented on how unusual it was that he didn't seem to have an office and he had waved it off nonchalantly. He felt as if he were juggling far too many balls at once. George, keeping with the Statute of Secrecy, Michael Bones, Audrey's parentage, Audrey herself, getting to Azkaban...

He landed with a pop and knocked at the door. It was a moment before Lucy opened it with a wan smile.

"Percy." She let him in. "What news?"

"None I could quite share." He said frankly. Something about her made her feel as if he were with his own mother.

"Well, then there is some." She said pleasantly, leading him again into the breakfast nook. It struck him that though there was a front room and a living room, he'd never been asked to sit in either of those, but instead simply invited into the kitchen, the most familial domain in the house.

"Audrey is out." Lucy searched the young man's face keenly for some sign of disappointment and was disappointed herself to find it lacking. Pity. He was such a nice young man.

"Oh?"

"She's getting blood taken for a paternity test like you told her."

He nodded in the affirmative. The blood was to be picked up from the muggle hospital by a mediwitch, removed to St. Mungo's and tested against the father's...when they found him. Percy had little doubt, but he couldn't go to Azkaban until he had the results. "Copacetic."

Lucy ran her hands over a red spiraled notebook, made in the cheap muggle style. "I was looking through Michael's journals. I found what he wrote the night he found Audrey. I don't know if it will be any help..."

"May I anyways?" Percy pressed.

She nodded and handed it over.

It was twenty years old, the pages slightly brittle, and the red cover fading in places. He flipped it open to the bookmarked page and found the correct date. Entries were written in two hands: One a looping script in a red ink, and the other a cramped-up scrawl in blue. He skipped over Lucy's entry and went straight to Michael's.

_13 January, 1977_

_Past midnight_

_This is one of the craziest things to happen to me in a long time. _

_Busy day at work, nothing out of the ordinary. _

_I was at Chez, as always, in the middle of dinner rush, as always. I had just walked by the bakery door when I heard this weird popping noise. Not like popping, exactly, just one pop, in the middle of all the kitchen noise. _

_I poked my head in there, and there was no one inside. And then Carol (she's new) nearly ran me over with a cart. She asked what I was doing (I probably looked pretty strange, but it's a good thing). And I told her I'd heard something and we kind of shrugged it off until she noticed there was blood on some of the napkins. I think she thought it was sauce and she got all mad and started pulling them all out, and then she yelled at me. _

_There was a baby. In the napkins. _

_I have no idea how she got there. Everyone got asked, even some of our patrons, and no one had any idea where it came from. _

_So Carol and I look down at her, and I kind of wrap her up in a napkin and put her on the table (I got in trouble because James said it's not sanitary, but since we have to sanitize the whole bakery anyways, I figured it wouldn't hurt, and Lucy agrees with me). And then we got James and the police, and they took her away. I knew it was a her because (here's what's wierd) she was still newborn. The umbilical cord was still intact and it was all slimy and bloody. She had just been born._

_I hope they never find the parents (And that's not terrible, because they had their chance and they threw her away in a pile of napkins). I told Lucy about it and she was saying like everyone else how strange it was, and I asked her did she realize that that girl could be put into the foster system next week, and we could adopt her? Ever since our Anna was given to that other couple, we keep asking and the system keeps putting us off, but this one was so perfect. _

_I don't really know how to say it, that's why it's so crazy. But this little girl was so small and so...right. That's the only word I can think of. She was just right. Maybe it was just because she was newborn and holding her, I might have felt the way real fathers feel when their children are born. But I really, really want that baby, that one. _

_Lucy doesn't quite get it yet, but she said that if I wanted to take a look at the girl we could. So we will. _

Percy ran his eyes back to the top of the entry. The standout sentence was obvious.

_I heard this weird popping noise. _

He rubbed his eyebrow. Apparition meant that whoever left the child would be impossible to trace.

He would have to get another look at the bakery, rack both women's minds for details Michael might have left behind, might have mentioned later and not in the diary.

"Was this all?"

Lucy nodded. "I mean, we wrote afterwards, about the adoption..."

Percy dropped his eyes to the pages again.

_18 January, 1977, _

_6:32 PM_

_No leads on our baby. There was a blanket she was wrapped in, but I don't think they can trace it. No one saw her go in, no one saw anyone come out. She's almost a week old now, and soon we're going to go see her as it looks like she will be up for adoption. She'll be a 'blank slate', so we can pick a name. I like Jesse. _

Percy skipped ahead to the next entry, this one in Lucy's red ink.

_21 January, 1977_

_9:21 AM_

_I saw our baby. Michael is right, she is perfect. I don't know why. Call it mother's instinct. She has little hands and little feet and little ears. She's so much younger than any of the other infants we looked at. Her eyes are gray, and she has a little black fuzz on her head. _

Michael had responded in blue again,

_9:32 AM_

_I told you so. _

_James and I were talking. He said that it looks like someone might have put her on a dishcart and wheeled her in, wrapped in her blankie so she would't get blood on things, then dumped her in the bakery, put her in the oven and then moved her to the clean napkin basket, covered her with napkins, and then walked out. But she's so young she would have had to have been born within a few minutes away. So the police are in a quandry, and I'm happy because that means I can have her. _

_And we've narrowed names down to Deserae, Paula, or Audrey. _

Percy scanned over the next few pages, found nothing more forthcoming. "Copacetic." He said. "Would you mind if I made a copy of this?"

"No, not at all." Lucy said. "I mean...I can have it back, can't I?"

"Yes, it'll only take me a moment." He slipped it into his briefcase. "Now. He mentions she was wrapped in a blanket. You wouldn't still have it, would you?"

"I do...we never used it, but it was her first blankie. I have it somewhere in the attic."

"Copacetic. I'll need it if you can find it, and as soon as possible. It may help. I will also need another look at the bakery, just to put everything in its proper perspective. I shall need you or Audrey to accompany me. And when we get the results of the paternity test, I will know who I'm looking for. I'll go and find...him, get some answers out of him."

"Audrey or I can meet you at the restaurant any time you deem convenient." Lucy replied. "You think the father's part of this group that you don't want us to know about?"

"Yes." Percy admitted. "I think he may well be. The mother may have been as well."

Lucy raised her brows. "And you think you know who they are?"

"Madam?"

"I know how paternity tests work, you have to have the father's blood as well." She reminded him. "So whose blood are you testing it against?"

Percy shifted uncomfortably. Oh yes, her style of direct questioning was very like his mother's. "Well, madam, I'm not sure that I could say."

"Ah." She gave a nod, leaned back in her chair and studied him. He met her eyes, aware that she could not be an occlumens, and even if she was his glasses were charmed to protect him from prying minds.

"Tell me something else, Percy?" She requested softly.

"Madam?"

"How are you?"

He blinked blankly. "Er...Madam?"

"How. Are. You? It's a very simple question."

"Er, yes it is, Madam. I..." He hadn't been asked the question in some time. Since the end of the war, trivial office chat had diminished into hasty demands for this, for that, requests for help, employees hurrying one another along to fix the various problems affecting the various departments. And that...that was about all the talking he did anymore, he realized. Perhaps that was why he had repeatedly responded to the Boneses offers of kindness.

Now she was making him feel guilty for not seeing his family.

He cleared his throat to buy time and think of a response. "I'm...copacetic." The word rolled off his tongue, the easiest response to difficult situations.

"And your family? Are they 'copacetic' as well?"

"Splendid. Never better." He responded calmly.

Lucy gazed at him for a long moment. "You're an unexpectedly good liar. I might actually believe you did we not both know that that is an utter fabrication."

Percy said nothing.

"All right. I can respect your wish for privacy, Percy Weasley, but I want you to know that if you ever need help or someone to talk to, I'm here. So is Audrey. We owe you enormously for your help."

"You forget it is my job." He replied, his stiff side coming through.

"Perhaps." She let the topic drop, and it seemed to Percy that the very air grew more breathable.

"Well, I will get the results of the test as soon as possible." Percy told her, eager to escape. "When we find the parent's identity, I will have a talk with them. Depending on what the results are, that could be in a few days, or as late as the first of August."

"We're willing to wait." She accepted. "And that's not so far away."

"Copacetic."

.

Audrey stared dully down at the long lines of equations and the pages of notes, then looked back at her textbook. "Know what, Davis?"

"Mm?"

"I really hate physics." She said it as if it were the first time it occurred to her, though it struck her now that she'd hated it for quite some time.

Davis looked up at her from his own work. "What?"

"I said I hate physics. I mean, really, I do. I don't…I don't really want to do this for the rest of my life."

"Audrey, you're too young to be having a mid-life crisis."

She gave him a look across the table, and for lack of anything else to do, picked up her cup of lukewarm tea.

"Is this about the case?"

"No. No, I just don't want to do it."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I have no idea. Something…" she looked down at the papers and the books before her. "Something that means something, something that's not so abstract."

"In my math class they used to say the _x_s and the _y_s do mean something. Apples and oranges."

She gave him a look. "Well they don't, and this is not your math class."

Davis watched her across the café table for a long moment. "Well…why don't you just finish it for now and then talk to your professor what's-his-name about it. You're probably just in a slump or something."

She let him go back to his own work and continued staring down at hers. "Maybe." She said suddenly, picking up her pencil again and shoving away her growing discontent. "Maybe so."

.

Lucy topped the last stair in Percy's building. He had told her she could leave the package at the door, but she hesitated before it, and then knocked. The boy had had four people at his apartment last night, surely one of them was around tonight.

There was some fumbling and the door opened a crack, then wider. The boy looked younger than Percy, but somehow older around the eyes. "Are you Percy Weasley's brother?"

"Uh…" He stared down at her. "Yes?" He sounded like he wasn't sure and he smelled (just slightly) of alcohol.

"Oh. I'm Lucy Bones, Percy is working on a murder case that I'm involved in. He asked me to drop this off at his apartment once I found it." She lifted the wrapped blanket in her hands. It had taken her all day to find it.

"Oh." He opened the door a little wider. "Sure. Were you here yesterday?"

"Yes." She stepped inside and discovered they were alone. "And you…which of his six brothers are you?"

He looked surprised. "I'm, I'm George. Percy…talked about us?"

"A little." She assented. "George. You look hungry." She could smell the distinct odor of burnt beans on burnt toast coming from the kitchen. She took in the young man and his sad eyes. Really, he wasn't much more than a boy, he couldn't have been Audrey's age. "You live around here?"

"No, I live at Diagon Alley." He paused, and then looked apologetic, as if he had said something he oughtn't to have.

"Oh? Do you know a place around here where I could grab some tea to wake me up before I drive home? It's quite late."

"Er…sure." He said. "Right down the street."

"Are you busy?" She asked, glancing at the books scattered over the table. "I'd love the company."

.

_I heard this weird popping noise. _

1. One pop. Disapparition. One person. They could have come from anywhere in the country.

2. The child, Audrey, had not yet been cleaned from birth. The person apparating in had likely been the one to help deliver. A female, then. A midwife? A servant?

3. They had put her in the third oven, low to the ground, then moved her to the napkin basket, on a shelf also low to the ground. A short person.

2. and 3. A house elf.

4. If a house elf, then an old house elf. Inexperienced apparition made a sound like a crack. House-elves were not adept enough at magic to master the skill much...only an old elf, very accustomed to apparition, would have made a popping noise.

An old female house-elf.

Percy suppressed the urge to rub his eyebrow. Nearly all purebloods had house-elves, and the one who had delivered Audrey was likely dead by now. It could be anyone, then.

Audrey watched him stare back and forth. Uncrossing her arms, she at last let out a sigh to remind him she was still there.

He glanced around quickly. "Hm?"

"What do you think? Are you getting anything from this?"

"Perhaps." He had his fingers forming a steeple as he studied the bakery.

"Care to share any of it with me?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible."

"Come on." She tucked her hands into her pockets. "I'm the kid who got abandoned here, I'm the daughter of whatever ax-murderer you think murdered my father...I'm apparently the reason, surely you can share something with me."

Percy stopped a moment and stared at her. He wondered, would it be legal for her to apply for auxiliary status to the Wizard World once this was all over? Lucy could never know, of course, but could Audrey be told?

Audrey stared back, meeting his gaze. He was looking at her peculiarly, as if a new idea had just occurred to him, and she were the key.

"Er, Percy?"

"Sorry." He started out of his reverie and reached for the notebook he'd left on the table. After doing a little scribbling, he closed it. "Copacetic. We're finished."

She followed him out, locked the door after him, secretly wondered how he'd got in without a key. "What now?"

"Now..." He glanced up at the dark sky. It was late night again. "Now I need a look at that baby blanket your mother said she'd dropped by my place."

"Think you can trace it?"

"I think I may well be able to." He responded calmly.

"To your place, then?"

"To my place, I suppose." Percy replied, only hoping that Charlie had gone to work today and George had gone home.


	10. Something More

**A/N**_**: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter**_**. **

**And I give thanks for all my reviews, and apologies for the delay. Hot, sticky, summer bliss (?) is ended and real life begins. Updates will be slow. But this chapter is long, so there. **

**Chapter 10: Something More**

Audrey waited as Percy fumbled with his door for a moment, then pushed it open warily. "One of my brothers may be here." He muttered almost unintelligibly, and she noticed the tips of his ears were pink. Last night's company must have been difficult on him.

"That's fine." She murmured in response as he disappeared into the back room (the bedroom, she supposed it was). She let him go, hoping silently that whatever was wrong with his brother or brothers, it hadn't kept them here tonight. Truth was still what she was after. She wouldn't let herself forget that, and she wouldn't let Percy forget it, either.

He had put her off in the bakery, yet again. She was no idiot. She had one clue, one clue only.

Glancing at the door through which he had gone, she crossed the room to the wall of books. Surely he had dictionaries. Her fingers trailed over the unfamiliar volumes as she searched for one that might hold answers.

He'd called her a name, when he was excited and forgot she was there. An odd term she wasn't familiar with. What was it he'd said? Such a queer word, she'd remembered it. Squib. A Squib. Davis, like her, could remember hearing the word, but didn't know just what it meant.

Ah. Here. Dictionaries. At least..._Rowling's Exhaustive Dictionary of the Magical World_. Well, that didn't sound very reliable. She paused at the next book, a thick green volume. _American Dictionary of the English Language_. She tugged it out and flipped it open, balancing the heavy weight in her arms.

_SQUIB, 1. A little pipe or hollow cylinder of paper, filled with powder or combustile matter and sent into the air, burning and bursting with a crack; a firecracker._

She stared at the words a moment, before deciding the dictionary had to be very old. It didn't help in the least, at any rate. And Percy appeared to have no more dictionaries than that. She dropped her eyes to the page again, staring at the words. Perhaps she had the wrong spelling. Perhaps she was remembering it wrong.

Percy pushed open the door, noting that George had not bothered to make his bed, and stepped back into the open front area of the flat.

Audrey was reading one of his books.

He was across the room in a few quick steps, his legs stretching longer than he realized they could. In an instant the heavy book was yanked from her hands and into his. "Don't read these!" He hissed, almost panicked, registering with a measure of satisfaction that she jumped and looked almost penitent.

Almost. Her lips narrowed determinedly a moment later and her eyes fell back to the page. He followed her gaze and glanced down at the words below him.

_The making and selling of squibs is punishable. _

He slammed the book shut. It was his second dictionary, the one written by a muggle. An American muggle. She could have learnt nothing from it. But still. "Why were you looking at this?"

She crossed her arms and shrugged. "I'm still asking questions, and if you don't answer them, I will myself."

Why could women not just give straight answers? "I will tell you what you need to know." He ground out between his teeth. "But don't look at these." He shoved the book back into its place on the wall. "Any of these." He waved his hand to demonstrate the entire room, every shelf. "They're quite valuable."

"All right. I'm sorry." She held up her hands. "I wanted to ask you some questions, and only go and take as stab at finding things out for myself once I knew you wouldn't tell me anything...which you haven't." Her eyes strayed to the blue-and-gold book beside the green dictionary, and Percy moved his hand protectively to cover it. Rowling's Dictionary...his magical dictionary. Oh, no. She could _not_ look at that.

He could toss out a little information, enough to make her grateful again and keep her satisfied. Enough, perhaps, to get her to accept his word and not try to learn more. _More_ could be a dangerous word when it referred to the Wizard World. Not to mention quite illegal.

His focus reasserted itself. They were here for the baby blanket left with Audrey. He needed to get a look at it.

"Please." He gestured, cutting off any further trouble. "Just sit."

.

There was something in George that was alike to Percy, and yet something that was infinitely different, Lucy thought as she watched him settle into the chair across from her. Percy seemed to know everything, have all the answers, exuded capability, professionalism and reserve. Yet the boy across from her, so similar in face and hair and sad brown eyes, looked small and unsure, and ultimately vulnerable. There was no cool and collected front like Percy had.

And there was that one night, when Percy's front had been down, just a few moments. In those few moments, he'd been small and vulnerable, too.

That, Lucy decided, was why she was here tonight, having coffee at midnight with Percy's brother. Because Percy had helped her. He'd gone above and beyond the call of duty to help her, and she owed him the favor. Perhaps the Percy she saw most of the time didn't want it, but for dead certain the Percy who she'd seen the other night needed it. And from the looks of it, this George needed someone's help, too.

She settled into her chair, studying the ginger across from her. He looked like he could use the good strong coffee he cradled in his hands as much as he could use a talk. She breached the silence. "So, tell me, George, what is it that you do?"

.

Audrey settled into a corner of the couch as Percy sank down near her, tugged the blanket out from where Lucy had left it, and held it up, letting the folds fall out.

It was just the size for a baby, less than a meter square. The fabric was a soft, foreign weave, in a pale gray color. The stains that she had left on it as an unwashed newborn still stood out, but they'd faded to muted brown blotching by now. Audrey watched him study it. She was sure that there were many blankets like it. There was a little stitching in one corner, over which he was bending now. She'd always assumed it was the symbol of the company that had made the blankie.

He stared at it for a long time, and she watched him. "What is it?" She asked. "You think you can trace it back to the maker, or buyer?"

Percy took in the small shield crest embroidered on the corner. His stomach was sinking. He had known, practically been certain already, even without a paternity test, but this confirmed it. He realized suddenly she'd asked him a question. "Hm? Oh, er, no. I don't need to trace it. This was custom made."

"It was?"

He held it out. "Look, the stitches are made manually." By hand, not by magic. More elves at work in her parent's home. But of course. They'd had dozens of elves to run their estate before the war. Percy stifled a groan as he realized what that meant. All those elves, each sent off to a different master after the war and the loss of the family fortune...he'd have to track down and speak with every one of them.

She raised her eyebrows, impressed, and leaned back again. "So, what, then?"

"So I go to the people who made it and have a talk with them."

"You know who made it already?"

He looked over at her. She was watching him with those penetrating pale gray eyes, and he could only stare back. To tell or not to tell?

"Come on. It's my family." She argued.

No, he decided, her eyes may have been _like_ her father's, but they were not his. She was not his. She was not her father's child. _They_ were not her family.

"Fine." He said abruptly. "But this may take a little while."

She hadn't been able to follow his train of thought, and he could just barely see her masked surprise at his sudden change of plans. "Oh. Well, thank you...where are you going?"

"To make tea." God knew he'd need it.

.

"Anyways." George paused in telling her about his odd-sounding joke shop. "It gets along pretty well." There was an obvious fondness in his voice, edged with just a touch of a wistful tone.

Lucy smiled. "Sounds wonderful. Why did you close it?"

He glanced down at his coffee, and she sensed thin ground. "Well, I didn't, see. My friend's just taken it over, taking care of it for now. I'm...taking a break."

"That can be good sometimes." She said neutrally.

"Yeah." He took a swig of coffee. "But someday," He finished earnestly, "I _am_ going back to it." He looked at her across the table, seemed intent on making her (or perhaps himself) believe what he said.

There was a pause, before George looked up again. "So how do you know Percy?"

"Through a case." She explained. "My husband's. Homicide."

"Oh." He nodded. "I heard him talking to Charlie about it. My other older brother. Muggle-killing."

She furrowed her brow a bit as the last words, unfamiliar words, slipped from his mouth. "What was that last part?"

"A muggle..." His voice trailed off, and then suddenly his lips shut quickly. "I mean...a...random killing."

"Oh. Oh, possibly, we're not sure." She told him. "It's supposed to be hush-hush for now."

"I know." He said. "I'm not allowed to talk about it, either." He glanced over at her apologetically, and she realized suddenly that he'd made a slip. He'd said a thing that he wasn't supposed to have said, that's why the word had sounded strange. He knew.

Now she had two motives for talking to George Weasley. His good...and hers.

.

Percy sat back down, eying Audrey warily. What to tell...There were many pieces of the truth that he could toss out or dress up to satisfy her. Truth, though, he decided was best in its purest form. He wouldn't lie to her. But he would have to be very vague in what he did say.

"So." She began. "Obviously, you're not going to spill all tonight."

"No."

"But..."

He sighed and shifted. "First of all, there is something you have got to get into your head. For your own safety." He gave her a pointed look. "And the safety of your family, friends, and well, _me_." Though there were few free Death Eaters left around, he would hate to know what they would do to him if anyone traced Audrey's sources back to him. Especially considering that her family were some of the few not certain to die in Azkaban...

"All right..." She waited.

"They are not your family." He gave her that look again. "Get that into your mind."You have never met them, and you did not know that they existed until a few days ago. You cannot love them, you do not know them." It occurred to Percy, now that he was talking, that that might be part of the reason for his resilient silence. He was protecting her. Any preconceived affectionate attachment to her family could be...bad, very bad, and could go desperately wrong. "I would strongly advise you to think of them as nameless, faceless nobodies who will have no further effect on your life than to serve as a tool for conception and birth. They abandoned you, they don't want you, they hate you."

"Ouch." She casually sipped at her tea, tucking her feet under her on the couch.

"Deal with it." He said callously. "They're murderers, it's how they are."

"All right." She held up her hands as a gesture of peace. "I've got it. So. My unknown family killed my father in a unknown way because of an unknown reason that has something to do with me. Explain."

"I can't explain it all."

"Explain something. Mum and I have both been up nights thinking on this. Is there...I mean, if this is partially to do with me, is there some way I could have prevented it?"

Percy shrugged. "Depends on the family."

"You already figured out who my family is." She reminded him. "So."

"They got rid of you because you were...undesirable." He stated simply. "The situation was out of your control. You were taken in by Michael Bones, and I suspect that he was killed for that reason. Simply for taking you in, a happening you had no say in. So in short, no, you could not have prevented it."

"Why leave me somewhere obvious? They had to know I'd be found and taken care of some way."

"I'm working on that." Percy told her. "They didn't want to kill you. If that were the case, they would have murdered you before birth, before anyone else could speak up for you. Instead, they simply wanted you do disappear. My theory is, that somehow, your existence became known, (probably in early 1996 or later), and they were left with no choice but to cut off anyone who could tell about you."

"What about my mother, I mean my adoptive one? And why not just kill me?"

"Because, you're higher born." He explained patiently. "You're...you're their child. Even if they won't own to you, you're still better than others like Michael Bones. You have..." He tried to phrase it delicately. "_Potential_." Potential to breed. The same 'potential' that had preserved the lives of pure-blooded squibs during the war. The hope that their children might be 'tainted', but still technically retaining pure wizard blood, had afforded them some minor degree of protection. "And as for Lucy..." He shrugged. "She was not there to testify to your finding. Anyone would assume, as I did, that she is your natural mother. They could leave her alive and not be found out._ I_ nearly didn't find you out."

.

"Does Percy always tell you what he's working on?"

"Mostly." George shrugged. "He's a workaholic, never does anything but sit around and...and work. And he knows we can keep our mouths shut. The whole family practically works for the Ministry anyways, so it's not like we don't know about secret work already. Percy's stuff is low-profile compared to what Charlie and Bill are doing."

"You hear about a lot of gruesome murders?" She prodded him subtly toward giving more information, momentarily taking advantage of his open nature.

He ruffled his hair and sighed. "Yeah, we've seen our share of gruesome." Was all he said, leaning back as if tired.

"It must be good to hear about so many criminals being found out and punished." She tried a slightly different tack.

He seemed to brighten a little as he half-shrugged. "Yeah. It's nice. It's better when they die, though."

Lucy stared at him for a moment, caught off guard, then dropped the subtle act, realizing she was not cut out to lie. "My husband was murdered by some sort of organization." She told him. "Percy said they were called Death Eaters. Heard of them?"

George glanced up. "Yeah. Everyone has. They kill for fun." His brows furrowed. "I'm surprised he told you that. I mean, the name and all."

"He's been quite fair with us." She agreed. He had said it was a 'muggle-killing'. What did that mean? "I'd never heard of such a case."

"Pretty common lately." George shrugged, again growing distant.

Were they? Lucy hoped not. "Yes, he said he's had several Muggle-killings lately."

"Yup," He agreed, not noticing she'd used the apparently forbidden phrase. "For Death Eaters, Muggle-killings are like dinner parties. I'm just sorry they picked you." He added, glancing up at her, genuinely sympathetic.

She felt almost bad for tricking the sweet, sad boy across from her. "Percy's been most excellent in his investigation." She said sincerely, wanting to say something nice to appease her guilty conscience.

"Well, if he's working, he will be."

.

Audrey's brow had arched at his statement of her being highborn. "How do you mean, _'others like Michael Bones?'_ What's so wrong with him?"

Percy rose to give himself time to answer her question. He crossed the room to one of the many rows of books, going to where he knew the one he wanted was. "I mean...I mean that your biological parents, and all Death Eaters, are very prejudicial people. They don't like people not like them. If you are...different, then they refuse to allow you into their little circle." He tugged out the book and began turning the leaves as he cradled it in the crook of his arm. "Though admittedly," He mused, "That's likely a good thing for you. I assure you, you would not want to have grown up in the house of Lucius Malfoy."

Audrey nearly choked to death on her tea. _Lucius Malfoy!_ Was that a name? Had he just spilled a name? She started to ask him, but didn't, afraid that he might stop talking then. While his back was turned to her, she bent and scrambled for a pen and paper, scrawled down the name before she forgot it or he said something else. Lucius Mallfoy. A fairly distinct name. She stared down at it, then stashed it in her pocket as he turned, apparently having found the page he was looking for.

"Here." He smoothed the brittle page with his hand and peered down at whatever was written or drawn there. His eyes reverted to the blanket for a moment, and he gave a nod. "The crests are identical. Your paternity test will be our best proof, of course, but this..."

"What is it?" She gestured to the book. It was thicker, and looked older than some of the others.

"A genealogical record of great families and their descent." He responded absentmindedly. "Each most ancient and noble house has its own crest, which they embroider or affix onto certain items." He shut the book with finality and put it back onto the shelf. "So that's...that, I suppose. It's fairly conclusive."

"I'm a sqwib." She agreed.

He looked over at her as he sat again. "You don't know what that word means."

"According to your dictionary, it means I'm a firecracker."

"That dictionary is...misinformed." He stopped suddenly. "Where did you hear that word?"

"You said it. The night you figured I was adopted. You went into the hall and said I was a 'sqwib.'"

Percy pursed his lips, seemed to berate himself internally. "Oh."

"So what's it mean?"

"It means that you're outcast. It's just a political term for those they've refused to allow to enter their circle. It's not necessarily bad."

"And what exactly would get me kicked out like that?"

Percy seemed to pause again, gave her another look. She met his gaze steadily with her own, which seemed to unnerve him. He looked away.

"Look." He shifted towards her on the couch. "There are some questions I just can't answer. These people operate on their own plane of logic, make their own rules. So don't ask me that. They have their own world view, albeit a warped one, and said world view required them to remove you from their plane of existence. Your biological parents need not kill you or anyone else unless you threatened their security of position within the Death Eater circle, but they did have to get rid of you."

"How would I threaten them?" She swung out her arms. "I'm twenty one, I'm a physics student, I'm not rich or connected, and I'm not strong enough to fight off a dog. What's to be afraid of?"

He gazed at her, then shook his head. "Please, when in the apartment of a half-stranger, do not remind them of how vulnerable you are to physical attack. It would make my job a good deal easier if you didn't get yourself killed, too."

"Sorry."

"Yes, fine."

"...You're avoiding my real question."

He sighed, apparently realizing she was not to be deterred. "Because, Audrey, you are you. You are outcast. If others found out they gave birth to a child who was outcast and possibly illegitimate, they would be looked down upon."

Audrey rubbed her brow as he explained. Her tea was cold and she was getting a headache. "So you're saying I'm an outcast because they threw me out, and at the same time they threw me out because I'm an outcast?"

"No...Well, yes. In a way."

"Well, that's...that's a tautology. It doesn't make a lot of sense."

"It doesn't have to." He rubbed his temples, and she could sympathise. In one way she wanted to beat him to a pulp for answers, in another she remembered how tired he was, and just wanted to give him a hug.

"Headache?"

"Not the first. And not the last." He glowered at the floor.

"Well, we appreciate the amount of work you're putting into this."

"Please stop thanking me. It's my job." He said shortly. "And I nearly enjoy it." She wasn't sure how true that was. He seemed tired, worn-down, and miserable, but she didn't say that. He was more relaxed than he had been at most times, and she didn't mind it.

"You like hunting them down?"

"I like seeing them get what they deserve." There was a vehemence behind the words that was all too audible. His tone was dripping with it, but she waited, not sure if he would go on, not sure how to respond.

At last, she simply nodded. "Well, you seem be about perfect for the job, then. Even if you are a secretary." She added, nudging him into a small smile.

"You sound like one of my brothers." He told her with dry amusement, the sudden burst of hatred gone entirely. "Talking at me like my job is worthless. For your information, my job is very important, regardless of what my brothers say about my being overobsessed with it."

.

"Percy's overobsessed with being perfect at everything." George continued. "Especially his job. He used to want to be Minister and all."

Lucy gave a smile. "Well, with his work ethic I can imagine he'll be fairly successful."

"Too successful." George asserted. "Percy...he sometimes..." George paused a long moment, apparently not sure how to say what was in his head. "He just sometimes thinks too much about some things and not about other things, and then the other things get left behind because he's so good at those first things."

"A conflict of priority." She agreed.

"No." He told her. "It's not like he doesn't love the second thing. He just forgets about it. I think. I hope that's all." He added, almost to himself.

Lucy studied him keenly. His phrasing indicated pretty well his meaning. Job first, family second. She had heard it was a common view for ministry and government workers. "He doesn't have a girlfriend?"

"Doesn't have time." George shrugged.

"That kind of a work ethic is hard on a woman." She agreed.

"I think he'd make time for a girl." George scowled just slightly. "He used to have this girlfriend, and they'd spend all their time together, work together on things, and he'd sort of bring her into all the things he had to do. He'd make time for her, just not for a lot of other people."

"Where is she now?"

"She's a Healer...er, a medi...nurse." George stammered over his words for a moment before recovering.

"And he doesn't have time." She mused. "Surely he doesn't work all the time?"

"No." George admitted. "Since the war, he's spent a lot more time with the family. I mean, he comes home and all. I think he doesn't like the Ministry as much as he used to."

"Oh?" She cocked her head. "He took issue with the war?"

George seemed once again to give that look of saying something, catching himself, and falling silent. "Well...sort of. It's just a little different for us." He mumbled. "It's complicated...for Percy...For our whole family." He shook his red head, his shaggy hair falling into his face. The boy hadn't had a haircut in a long time. "You wouldn't understand, how it is. For our family."

She raised her eyebrows at his halting words. "Try me."

.

"Well, Davis says I'm overobsessed about my classes." She offered.

"Yes, and he's an American." Percy reminded her. "All Americans are lazy."

She stifled a laugh at his dry tone. "At least they're fun."

"They're rulebreakers." He shook his head. "I once had to deal with a whole troop of American diplomats coming in to see Fudge, my employer. They reminded me of my brothers, again."

"A lot of things seem to remind you of your brothers."

"I have a lot of brothers."

She laughed. "And they're all opposite you?"

"What leads you to draw that conclusion?"

"I saw them. The long hair and black jacket seemed to say it all."

Percy shook his head. "He also has a fang earring."

"And a tattoo?"

"No. No tattoos. Our mother forbids them." He told her, deliberately omitting that Bill had a Mark branded onto his arm. Not a Dark Mark, of course, but he still wasn't supposed to talk about it. "Though we're technically free to get one if we like, none of us dare risk her displeasure."

She cocked her head and reached out to touch his arm just below the elbow. "Then what's that?" She asked a little teasingly, knowing he had some form of tattoo beneath his shirt.

He glanced down at it quickly and spots of color rose in his cheeks. "Er...nothing. It's a..." His expression as he paused to think of a story was comical enough that she didn't interrupt him. "It's...well..."

"It is a tattoo, I saw it the other day."

Bother that night. One of his brothers might have seen it. Heaven forbid, George might have seen it and gotten a crazy idea. Percy momentarily berated himself for being a bad example to his alcoholic sibling at his most impressionable, and then returned to the conversation at hand. "Just please don't tell my mother." He said. "She'd hit me with a spoon. And that would hurt. Trust me, I know."

Audrey laughed out loud. "She would?"

"She would." He said seriously. "Molly Weasley can be very dangerous when you cross her."

"She sounds absolutely fantastic. She and my Mum should get together. What about your Dad?" She realized suddenly that they'd slipped from her case, to his work, to his personal life, but she didn't mind it much. He knew all about her personal life, it was only fair. And his family seemed to be a topic of which he was fond, and it brought out a dry sense of humour and a subtle sarcasm that she enjoyed. He probably got it from the rock-star brother with the fang earring.

Percy shrugged. "He works in an office. He's got seven kids all grown up. And he's obsessed with...er, tinkering with odd broken gadgets."

"All grown up?" She asked. "None still at home?"

"Well, Ginny's at home." Percy amended. "She's the youngest, nearly seventeen." He didn't have any pictures sitting about on tables or a mantle, but he tugged one out of his back pocket. "This picture's old, but it's of us." He handed it over.

She studied the image, a candid shot, clearly taken with no warning. It was indeed old. The girl looked no more than ten, a tiny thing who might have been the type of girl to go unnoticed, were it not for her flame-red hair. She was wearing some sort of a loose black robe as she leaned against a table, looking back at the camera. Behind her, sitting at the table, was a younger Percy, also caught off guard, looking very serious as the light of the flash hit his large glasses. Standing a little off to the side were two identical boys, both dressed in some sort of school uniform, both clearly caught in the act of laughing. Audrey grinned as she took in the last face in the picture. He was sitting at the table as well, in front of Ginny. His blankly surprised face was the only one which gave off the distinct impression of not being prepared for the photo.

Percy seemed to note that the last brother made her smile more than the others, and he leaned back and away from her. She realized abruptly he had been leaning over closer to look over her shoulder. He smelled like tea. "That's Ron, there in front. He always looks like that. Very blank, very unsure, and at times slightly stupid."

"The twins are identical?"

"Yeah." His voice became a little rough and he cleared his throat. "Fred and George. Always identical." He moved on quickly. "That was fall of 1992, I think. A boy at school who was a friend of Ginny's took it. He took pictures of everything."

"It's cute." She handed it back. "Your sister's got to be gorgeous by now."

Percy seemed to stifle more than a little pride. "Oh, yes, she's got her pick of company." He agreed. "And she's smart, and powerful. And quite talented. She can do anything she wants."

"Not biased, are you?" She teased.

"We Weasleys may not possess wit beyond measure, but we aren't stupid. Or weak."

"I noticed. It's nice that you all seem so close. That's pretty rare nowadays."

"Well..." Percy seemed to drift. "We're fortunate." He pushed away the thought of how unfortunate she was in her family, in her blood. A Malfoy.

Yet, when he looked at her, she didn't look like a Malfoy. She didn't have that tone, that way of walking. She didn't have the silver hair. Her face was heart-shaped, shaped like the Tonks girl's face, he realized suddenly, with a little stab of guilt. And yes, she had the Malfoy's pale grey eyes, but it was the way she used them that made them hers, not theirs. Not Draco's, not Lucius'. _Audrey's_ eyes. She was the farthest thing from a Malfoy she could get. And she would stay that way.

He wondered briefly if she could, or would, apply for auxiliary status to the Wizard World. She was a squib, after all. It could be a viable option...for her to live in his world. To know the full truth about her father, even if Lucy never could. He tried to picture Audrey walking down Diagon Alley and had a sudden vision of her standing in the middle of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in a robe and holding parcels. She fit. It was odd, but she seemed to fit there in the middle of the aisle of quirky potions and other magical products.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she and Lucy could be told. Perhaps, the truth she wanted could be given to her...in time.

.

Lucy let George talk. With Percy, she had started to feel as if she were talking to an iceberg. With George, it took no more than a few words to get him to talk, if one hit the right topic. His store, obviously was one of his favorite topics. His family was another.

He spoke his father, who Lucy guessed was apparently quite quirky. Eccentric, even, but George seemed quite proud of him and of his mother. He spoke of his eldest brother and his annoying French wife, the brother who trained large, exotic reptiles, and the brother who was afraid of spiders. He talked about Percy and about his sister, and about the boy called Harry and his utterly smart friend, who the family had taken in. He spoke little about himself.

She let him talk, augmented the conversation with her own stories and comments.

He was an odd boy, she had to admit as she drove home. Both he and Percy had their odd sides. They hesitated, misspoke, corrected themselves. They said things and then rushed to explain them, rushed to cover their mistakes. With George it was a more prevalent habit than it was for the well-spoken Percy, and yet, it was an oddity. She no longer doubted they grew up on a farm. There was something distinctly foreign in their mannerisms. They must have been very sheltered, she decided as she pulled her car into her home neighborhood.

George hadn't explained the events of the other night. The brothers rushing in, the worry, the stress. It seemed that despite his frankness, George, too, was an iceberg. She was only seeing the little bit he wanted her to see, and there was a something more, a great deal more going on.

.

"Percy? What's going on?" Audrey was watching him as he sat, momentarily removed from the conversation.

Percy pulled himself out of his thoughts and banished the vision of her in the Wizard World. They were in the Muggle world now. "Er...sorry. I got to thinking...about the case."

"Ah. No, you're not a workaholic at all."

He shrugged. "Family, work...it all blends together."

"My family or yours?"

"Both, in my case." He said drily. "Obviously your family is fairly crucial at this point."

"Are you going to arrest them?"

"I'll wait for the paternity test." They had both grown quiet as they became aware of the hour. Audrey stretched where she sat. Her mug was now forgotten and the couch had grown more and more comfortable as she sat.

"Percy?"

"What?"

"You do take days off, don't you?"

There was a pause. "I like working."

"Right." She shook her head. "You should still take a day off."

"Please, don't act like your mother. Or mine, for that matter."

She smiled tiredly and they didn't say anything for a several minutes, but let the room drift into silence.

How long had he been working at this? It seemed a long time. He was, as she had first suspected, a complete and utter swot, a bureaucratic pencil-pusher. But of a good sort, she reasoned.

Was he, really, the answer to the prayer she had prayed those months ago? Was Percy Weasley the Godsend that would bring truth and justice and closure and all the other things she had begged God for?

She hadn't expected her godsend to wear funny glasses and say funny things. She hadn't expected him to be so stiff and tight-wound. And she had certainly never expected this, all this that had happened. He hadn't really done anything that went beyond his job, but she knew that if he had been asked to go beyond duty, he would have. Odd. She never would have expected that, either.

Maybe he was the answer to her prayers. And maybe he wasn't. But either way, he was some strange form of miracle. And miracles, she had learned with time, did not come along every day.

When she looked back at him, he had fallen asleep, or at least closed his eyes. She edged toward the book he had taken out and looked at. Pulling it off the shelf, she sat back down. Percy didn't stir, so she carefully opened it, turned the pages toward the middle.

It was older than it had looked. The binding and the cover were new, and the colors on the crests were still vivid (almost too vivid), but the pages were old and slightly yellowed, and there was a telltale scar on the side of the pages where a lead clasp had once been. A little past the middle of the book, she found the page she was looking for.

_MALFOY_ was written at the top of the page. The _M_ was embellished and colored, and the rest of the page was written by hand, by some form of quill. She groaned internally as she stared down at the small, delicate writing of some long-ago scribe. Had it been printed, like a normal book, she might have read it, even if it was in Latin, but it was all by hand...and she was so tired...She tried to decipher the first few lines and found her eyes sliding shut. She pushed against the urge to put her head down, and gradually, gradually, lost the fight.

Neither was awake when the door opened not long after and George came in. Neither moved when the slight _pop_ of his departure was heard in the hallway. And neither stirred when Hermes fluttered in with the dawn.

**P.S. If anyone's curious, the definition for squib is taken from Noah Webster's 1881 dictionary. I made a few slight changes for easier reading. **


	11. Next Day

**A/N**_**: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter**_**. **

**Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading! **

**Chapter 11: Next Day**

There was an odd rustling noise invading Audrey's subconscious. She pushed it away, tried to deny it, because she was warm and it was comfortable...kind of...and she wasn't ready to get up just yet.

But the rustling noise persisted, and she slowly became aware that she really wasn't that comfortable at all the way she was lying...or sitting. She reluctantly pushed her eyes open and tried to clear her fogged mind.

Percy's round, ugly glasses were only centimeters from her face. She realized suddenly that they were closer than they had been during the night. She could feel his breath on her skin. Either he had scooted closer, or she had. Either way...it was warm, and semi-comfortable...and he smelled, unsurprisingly, like tea. She waited a long moment without moving, not quite willing to admit that she had fallen asleep on Percy's couch.

The rustling noise came again, and she at last raised her head from it's sideways position, feeling a sharp pain shoot up her neck. Oh, sleeping sideways with her head against the couch had been a mistake.

Her eyes fell at once upon the source of the persistent noise. An owl was perched not far away, his amber eyes fixed on her, his wings held out. From his firm gaze, she might have thought he was deliberately trying to wake her up. Perhaps he was.

The owl rattled his wings again, and finally let out a loud hoot.

"Sssh!" Audrey hissed at the bird, then glanced back at Percy, whose eyes opened and found her quickly enough.

The two stared at one another for a long, awkward moment. It again occurred to Audrey how close they were. Dangerously close, actually. Her head had been practically on his shoulder when she woke. She moved back quickly enough, disappointed to find that the end of the couch was not as warm as her spot in the middle had been.

Percy rolled his neck (no doubt he, too, had a muscle cramp), and readjusted his glasses.

A pause ensued. Audrey avoided looking at him. "I...must have fallen asleep." She noted that the thick book she'd been reading had slipped to the floor. After a moment she scooped it up and set it on the table.

"Yes." Percy's voice was slightly bleary. "Yes, as did I." He rumpled his red hair, and yawned. "My apologies." He didn't seem to be feeling the awkwardness of the situation. She'd never had him down for that type, but he seemed to be put off not at all. He squinted at his watch for a long moment before the owl hooted again.

"All right." He tossed back at it, pushing himself off the couch. "I suppose if you wanted to go and clean up in the bathroom." He looked down at her, still curled among the cushions.

She ran a hand through her hair and nodded shyly. "That'd be fine. I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean to fall asleep."

He shrugged as if he really didn't mind. "No matter. Bathroom's through there." He pointed at the door which she presumed led to his bedroom, then led her across and glanced inside. "Right. The door on the left there."

She slipped inside, getting only a quick impression of his bedroom. From what she saw, it's walls were lined with shelves exactly like those in the living room.

Audrey shut the door and again ran a hand through her rumpled hair, knowing she had to have an unsightly bedhead. She took a moment to glance over the small room. It was hardly surprising that the bathroom was clean, unadorned, and inextravagant. The only thing, it seemed, which Percy took pains to beautify were his books.

Audrey turned to the mirror and stifled a groan. She truly hadn't meant to stay all night. But she had (falling asleep on his couch, honestly!), and now she was a mess. Her hair was, indeed, a sight to behold, and her makeup had settled and caked unattractively on her skin. She reached for the soap.

After remedying her appearance as much as she could, she tugged out her phone and checked…yes, indeed, her mother had called her, several times. She returned the call, and left a message, grateful that Lucy did not answer the phone. She really would have a hard time innocently explaining this at the moment. Especially, she thought as she dried her face, especially considering that her mother already liked Percy.

Not that she didn't like Percy. He was nice...and sweet...and as her tired mind had pointed out to her last night, he was quite different, quite unexpected, and quite...well, almost providential. She fumbled in her purse for a moment and tugged out a tube of concealer, then glanced from it back up to her reflection in the mirror. "Oh bugger." She tossed all of her cosmetics back into her bag. She could go without makeup for now.

But then...there was Percy. What would he think if she came out without any makeup on? She examined her face in the mirror, searching for flaws or spots.

But why did she care? It wasn't as if he liked her, admired her...

Of course, if she were hypothetically interested in getting him to like her, making herself up was definitely the wiser course.

Though he had just woken up next to her (but not like that...). So he'd already seen her at her near-worst.

Her reflection scowled and she dropped the concealer again. Bother. She'd go without, and if Percy thought she looked like a mess, he could stuff it. Not that she didn't care what Percy thought of her (she did), but it was early morning and he wasn't exactly looking gorgeous himself. She ran her hands through her hair trying to straighten it out.

Though of course, Percy might actually be fairly cute-looking if it weren't for the glasses.

Not that that mattered. Not that she was thinking about that.

She cleaned her teeth and cleared her mind as best she could and opened the door again march back out to the kitchen.

.

Percy laced his fingers through his hair, staring at his kitchen. There was a woman. In his apartment. At six in the morning. And he had no breakfast.

Why in the name of Gandalf's nosehairs did she have to fall asleep? With him? On his couch? Of course she hadn't meant anything by it, an innocent accident. But it had been...nice. He hadn't had a nightmare, though he reasoned to himself that that might have nothing to do with her. It could be a coincidence. Possibly. Probably not, but all that was beside the point.

He gathered his scattered thoughts. There was a woman in his apartment. This was definitely a situation to which he was not accustomed. As a matter of fact, it might be a first...well, there was Penny, but that had been different. She and he were friends now, and she'd just needed a place to hide.

_For the love of all unicorns, Weasley, stop drifting off the point!_ What was he to do?

His eyes fell on an unfamiliar brown sack lying on the counter. Two mugs were set out beside it. Percy crossed the room, tugged a note off the package, muttered '_Lumos_', and read the familiar writing.

_Perce: The couch? Honestly? You could've at least moved it to the bedroom. I ate all your food the other day, and I figured you might need something for today, so I got this. To eat. Have fun. George. _

He tossed it down on the counter. There went his privacy. If this got back to his mother (of course it would), he'd never hear the end of it.

But still, the gesture was appreciated. George, even in his state, had bothered to think of him, tried in some small way to pay back the brother who owed the most to the family. It was a good deal more than Percy had expected of him just yet at this stage of what was going to be a long mourning period.

He ripped open the package and found inside the makings of a simple breakfast. Bless George. He tugged out his wand and set to it, careful to check that Audrey was still in the bathroom and didn't catch him doing magic. As long as she was here, he'd have to use that odd-fangled 'electricity' that muggles were used to, so in spite of his preference for magical lighting and services, he reluctantly 'turned on' the light fixture stuck to the center of the ceiling. Barbaric.

Audrey emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and Percy noted that her blouse was unbuttoned just slightly. He tugged himself away, refocused his thoughts yet again that morning, reminded himself she'd come here on business, and greeted her politely. "It's only six, so I thought you'd want something before you headed back."

She smiled a little shyly, and he could tell she hadn't been in situations like this often, either. "Thank you, Percy." She hesitated, then reached for the carton of eggs. "Why don't I do this and you go clean up? No offense, but I think I might be the better cook of the two of us."

He glanced at the pan in front of him and relinquished his position at once. "I think you just might be." He acquiesced truthfully. "I'll be a minute."

"Take your time." They were able to slip into some semblance of casuality as Audrey focused herself on something she knew very well how to deal with; the preparation of food.

Audrey slid the plates onto the counter and tugged up a stool there, as the flat had no dining area. The owl was still watching her, it's eyes rolling around occasionally to rest on the food. She tugged off a breadcrust and tossed it to the bird, making sure Percy didn't catch her first.

"Don't feed the bird." She jumped as he came up behind her, and pushed herself off the counter.

"Sorry. Yours?"

"Yes." He reached into a jar. "He's just eaten, I imagine, but a treat won't matter much." The owl caught the treat in midair, and Percy noticed the letter inside the bird's pouch. He tugged it out and flipped it over.

"Is that a letter?" Audrey took a bite of her eggs, watching curiously.

"It is indeed." He responded in a tone that might have been sarcastic.

She mulled the question in her mind before asking, "And do you often receive letters by owl in the morning?"

He gave her a long look through his glasses. "It saves on postage." Was all he said.

She pretended at least for the moment to be satisfied with that as an answer.

.

Percy closed the door after Audrey and put his forehead against it.

Oh, hippogriff pies. As if he needed one more thing to complicate his life.

He was not going to become attached to an ignorant muggle-raised pureblood squib whose father had murdered dozens of people and tried to kill his sister. He simply wasn't. Forget all the pluses, there were far too many of them anyways. She was probably far out of his sphere. Their spheres of society were totally different ones. His entire family was with the Order. Hers were Death Eaters. He was a wizard. She was practically a muggle, if you were unaware (as she was) that she was pureblooded. He forced himself into the professional realm.

_Becoming attached to someone is a choice,_ he lectured himself. _Choose not to like her, choose rather to keep her at a professional distance. It's what's best all around. _

That was just what he'd do. Because with too much work, a weakened government, a promotion to strive for, an alcoholic brother, a clingy mother, and a host of siblings and others to deal with, he simply didn't have time for girls.

_So there. _

.

Audrey pushed open the front door and slipped in, hoping against hope that her mother was not up.

"So."

No such luck, obviously.

"Morning, Mum."

Her mother took in her wrinkled appearance with no more comment than a raised eyebrow. "Good morning."

Audrey took a breath and let it out. "All right, I know I'm a mess. We were talking late and we fell asleep. On the couch."

Lucy was biting back a coy smile. "Um-hum."

"Mum..."

"What were you talking about?" Her mother's tone shifted abruptly as she turned to shuffle back to the kitchen in her robe. Audrey followed, feeling the need to shower, but ignoring it. Both sank down at the table.

"We were talking about the case, and then we just kind of drifted." Audrey shrugged, then remembered. The name, Percy had given her a name. She let excitement cross her face as she looked across the table, then bit it back abruptly. She didn't have to tell her mother right away? Percy probably wouldn't want her to know. He'd warned her, this Lucius Malfoy wasn't someone she'd want to know...

She hastily smoothed her expression as her mother watched. "So...um, yes, we just talked."

"Just talked?"

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a pause as Lucy watched her deductively. "You're awfully excited for 'just talked'. Are you sure that there wasn't..." Lucy paused elaborately, "A little something more going on?"

Audrey bit her tongue. She might have known that her mother would read her evasiveness incorrectly. It was a fairly natural conclusion. "Mum, we were just talking."

"And when you say you 'drifted' off topic, what exactly does that mean?"

"Mum, please." Audrey pleaded. "We're working, it's not like we're in love."

"He's single, you know." Lucy replied abruptly.

"Wha...how do you know that?"

"I talked to his brother, his brother George last night. We had quite a little chat." Lucy nodded.

"George...Isn't that the one his other brothers were looking for?" Audrey recalled the picture she'd seen last night. George, hadn't he been one of the laughing twins standing in the back?

"The very same." Her mother nodded. "I think he's sick or something, maybe unstable. Anyway, he's a sweet young man. I think he might be single, too (if you're interested) and he was quite forthcoming."

Audrey ignored her mother's comment. "What'd he say?"

"He said a lot of things." Her mother leaned back. "He said his whole family works for the Ministry, and so they all know what the others are working on. And he mentioned that he'd read your father's...well, Michael's case, and he said that it was a specific type of crime. He seems to know a lot about these Death Eater people."

"Like what? Did you learn anything...?"

"He called your father's death a 'muggle-killing.'" Lucy was leaning forward conspiratorially, and gave a shrug. "Whatever that means."

Audrey was silent a moment. "They use a lot of words we don't understand." She mused. "Do you know what a muggle-killing is?"

"No. I even looked the words up, found nothing. I thought perhaps it's some sort of acronym."

Audrey debated what to tell her mother. She had a name, at least on name to lead her on. Percy hadn't said explicitly that this Lucius Malfoy was her father or any relation, really, but he'd implied she might have grown up in his house, had things been different. So he was a starting point. And Percy was giving her so little to go on...surely he couldn't fault her for going out and investigating a bit on her own. Audrey chewed her lip. He'd probably be angry, and she didn't want that. But perhaps she could work out something...Another glance at her mother and her mind was made up. For now, Lucius Malfoy was her secret, to be acted on alone.

She shifted the conversation a little, away from the case, the murder. "So you and George got along then?"

"Oh, yes. He told me a lot about his family, and all of his brothers, and Percy too, of course."

"Percy mentioned to me about his little sister, the youngest. Showed me a picture of them, and the twins..."

Lucy cocked her head. "What twins?"

"The twins." Audrey told her. "George, and he has a brother...I think his name was Frank or something. They're identical twins."

Lucy looked puzzled. "Are you sure? George and I talked for quite a while, he told me a lot, and he never mentioned a twin brother." The coy smile slipped into it's place again. "Well, perhaps Percy was a little more open with you than George was with me."

Audrey gave her mother a look.

"You like him?"

"Maybe. I like him as a person, and I like him as a detective." Audrey responded.

"He's single." Her mother reminded her.

"Yes, you mentioned that." Audrey rose from the table. As much as she had gotten to like Percy, she wasn't going to go on about it when he obviously wasn't interested in her. "And he saw me wake up looking like a mess this morning. I need a shower, and badly. I have homework and a class this afternoon. And I need to call Davis."

"For what?"

"For...stuff." Audrey responded, disappearing through the kitchen doorway. She mounted the carpeted stairs and passed her bedroom for the bathroom, paused again in front of the mirror. Well, all right, she didn't look too bad. If only she didn't have such a pointy face. She fiddled with her hair. She'd often wondered when she was a child if one parent had been Asian, given that her skin was white and her hair was black. Such very Black hair. With a shrug, she passed the mirror and turned on the shower. She had things to do, and worrying about her appearance would get none of them done.

.

"So...what are you doing?"

Audrey glanced up to find Davis gazing down at her, perplexed.

"I'm looking at a phone book. That ought to be fairly obvious."

Davis sat across from her, his bag striking the table with a loud thump. "Yes, and you have homework."

"I think I might take a break from school and get a read hob." she resonded. "I really don't have the focus rught now."

"Audrey, what are you doing?"

She paused, looking up at him again. "I'm looking for a name." She resumed her skimming.

"Audrey that's a phone book. So you're looking for a number."

"Yes, Davis, but you see, phone books are not just useful for getting phone humbers." She told him.

"Oh?"

"Yes. They also have..." Her eyes landed on the name she was looking for. Malfoy, right there in the middle. "Addresses."

Davis backed up. "Wait. What are you doing?"

"I'm paying someone a little call." She responded, scribbling down the address.

"Who, your detective boyfriend?"

"I already know where he lives." She replied, then kicked herself as Davis wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in response. Not even bothering to glare at him, she dropped her eyes to the book again. "I'm not going to see _him_, I'm going somewhere else. And you're going with me."

"Wait. What?"


	12. Azkaban

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**And I'm sorry about the lack of Audrey in this chapter. I tried to kind of keep her in his thoughts. **

**Chapter 12: Azkaban**

Percy's alarm clock screamed at him, and he rolled over to shut it off.

He knew just how much he didn't want to get up and go into this day, but at the same time he knew he couldn't get away from it. He pushed himself out of bed and went to shower.

His work had pulled him into the muggle world a great deal lately. He hadn't worn his robes in several days. Today, though, he pushed the muggle suit to the back of the closet and pulled a robe out instead. A dark robe. He would need something dark where he was going. Though it was only the first of August, he knew it would be cold, too. He reached for his cloak.

He didn't eat anything for breakfast, only put his work things into a bag and slung it over his shoulder.

When he was ready, he pulled open the door and apparated to the Ministry. He couldn't have borne the walk, and he was in his robes anyways.

It was a motley group of criminals who waited for him as Shacklebolt and several aurors took care of the last pieces of paperwork. No one gave him a second glance, not even the prisoners-to-be. Most of them had their heads down, staring at the floor. A young woman was crying loudly, but no one bothered to comfort her. Percy looked past her sobs with no sympathy.

When Shacklebolt was gone, the auror in charge turned to him. "You must be Weasley."

"I am." Percy shook his hand, aware that his own hands were growing sweaty already. "And you are Auror Fayne?"

"That I am." Fayne gestured to the group of criminals. "They're our load. When we get to the prison, my lads and me will take care of them, hand them off to the prison wardens." He sized up the redhead in front of him. "I know you've got your own work to be doing, so as soon's you get there, get off and do it. We want to finish this off and get back here as quick as possible." He shuddered, and Percy shifted his gaze to the other aurors in the room. They, too, seemed to dread going to the prison, even just for a few hours.

"I understand." He responded. "I'll be as quick as possible."

.

They took a portkey, with all the prisoners chained together. They landed at an undisclosed location and then took a short train. The sun came up a little as they went, but in Percy's eyes it was hazy. He struggled determinedly to keep his mind from reverting to where they were going. The clink of the prisoner's chains seemed to cut into his mind like a metal file.

He gazed at the sun. Where they were going, there was no sun. He had heard that Shacklebolt and others were fighting to have the dementors removed from the prison altogether, leaving only the human wardens as guards, but it was hard fight. Percy was against it himself. The dementors made escape next to impossible. During the war that had been bad, when the inmates were children and muggles. But in the current political climate, with the current assortment of criminals, he was of the opinion that dementors would be the most practical means of guarding the fortress. For now, anyways, the dementors stayed, and let their fog smother the prison and it's inmates.

He turned his eyes away from the sun. They stank, the brooding creatures, and they made the air thick despite the cold. One could hardly breathe when they were about.

No, he did not want to remember. He did not want to go back to that feeling in his lungs, when breathing was no longer the word. Sucking was more like it. Sucking in that thick, odorous, foul air that scalded his lungs with cold.

One of the prisoners shifted, and the chains rattled again.

Percy shut his eyes. Their family had barely escaped so many times. After Ron had been caught and then escaped at Malfoy Manor, they'd all had to dive for a place to hide. Aberforth Dumbledore and Neville had pulled Ginny out of school scarcely minutes before the Death Eaters had shown up with a warrant for her arrest and incarceration. Percy had not been so lucky. He couldn't honestly remember how they had got to the prison, but the memories of his days there were eerily sharp. He could remember every detail about it.

He cleared his mind. No, he didn't want to go back, but he had to. They couldn't take his wand. No, nevermind 'they'. He was one of 'them' now, _he_ was the authority, _he_ was the voice of the Ministry now. A sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind wondered if the dementors would remember him, but he pushed it back as impossible.

.

The train stopped and Percy got off first, eager to be away from the inmates.

They were at a rocky edge of land near the sea. He distantly remembered the spot, remembered the small hut where the last wardens lived. There were no dementors here just yet, just the human guards who controlled them. They were miserable, foul men with lives ruined by repeated exposure to the monsters.

The warden who came out was unfamiliar. All of the old ones had been murdered at the last breakout, and then replaced with ministry pawns. The pawns, had in turn been replaced by Shacklebolt's men not long ago.

A boat was drawn up to the rocks, the cold sea sloshing at it's sides, and they all got in. By now the chill from the ocean was sinking into everyone's bones, and Percy tugged his hood up over his face, pulled his cloak around himself. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand.

Happy thought. Happy thought. Books. Library. He drew his patronus to mind, a silver owl soaring in and out, swooping about him with Hermes, the solid owl mixing with the silver figment.

Oh, God, how much he didn't want to be here, doing this. Shacklebolt had known it was a bad idea. Hadn't he offered to have someone else go?

_But I'm here now. Pull yourself together, go to work. _

_Think of Audrey. It's for her. She'll probably be so happy with you when you tell her you've spoken with her father, when you tell her he's confessed to everything. _

_Maybe you'll even get a reward…_

Percy tried to push the chill away from his bones.

The young female prisoner's snoffles suddenly fell silent, and Percy glanced up and around. How long had they been on the boat? His eyes strained through the fog. In the distance, shrouded by gray clouds and framed by the black of his hood, the tower of the prison was just becoming visible.

The young woman began to cry anew, harder than before, as reality of the scene settled over the group. Percy felt a grim sense of satisfaction to know that he was one of the few who was coming out of that place at the end of the day. The woman, she likely wasn't yet twenty. Just younger than he had been earlier this year when he'd seen the prison for the first time. Now she would spend an entire existence chained to a wall in tower covered in fog, in the middle of an unplottable sea. It served her right, he thought mercilessly. He had always had a gift for being callous in the face of others.

The boat navigated itself carefully through the rocks jutting up from the sea, jouncing from side to side in the swells. Sea-spray covered all in the boat, and those with wands were quick to dry and warm themselves.

At last, it drew up and those aboard climbed onto the small cluster of rocks on which the prison building stood. Large waves crashed over them, making footing difficult. Percy was one of the last off the boat, as the prisoners were the priority. The shape of a dementor soared high above and disappeared around one of the corners of the tower. Percy felt a sharp panic shoot through his muscles, and he resisted the urge to duck down and hide in the boat until it returned. Instead, he clasped the warm, solid human hand held out to him and climbed up onto the rocks, then followed them to the doors.

He was pleased to see that Fallan, the old warden, was gone, and replaced instead by a fat, tired-looking man eager to accommodate the aurors. He took their names, and Percy signed and turned in his paperwork to visit. It was taken and put away quickly as the prisoners were ushered to one of the two, now-separate compounds.

Malfoy was in cell 218. Percy turned and scanned the room, forcing himself to remember that Malfoy was the reason he'd come. Audrey was the reason he'd come. She was a happy thought, at least, and he clung to that thought with desperate abandon.

When he got out, he was going to go see her straightaway.

He knew, of course, which way to go. Down a stone corridor, up a winding staircase, out into another stone corridor. Someone screamed once, and he felt a chill on the stairs and was almost certain a dementor was coming, but he ran across none. He skipped the loose step near the top and came out onto the hall, the floor and walls flagged with deep gray stone.

218. He stopped and looked inside the little window in the door.

A shaggy head was hunched over a set of wide, bony shoulders. The body was covered in a ratty striped tunic and trousers, the wrists and ankles bound to the wall by heavy chains.

Percy shut the window loudly enough for Malfoy to hear, and then began undoing the charms on the door.

In a moment it was open and he stopped in the doorway long enough for Malfoy to get a look at him. The two took in one another's appearance for a moment.

"Weasley." The other man said, his voice coarse, but his tone still both proud and hateful as he stared out of his hollow eyes. "Arthur Weasley."

Percy shut the door and moved to sit across from him. "No, sir. Percival Weasley, Ministry of Magic. I'm here on behalf of the Muggle Reinvestigational Unit. We're investigating crimes against and relating to muggles."

Malfoy stared at him still. Though he was putting up an appearance of pride, of being the old Malfoy, it was clear that he was broken beyond repair. Percy gazed back into the pale grey eyes. They were nothing like Audrey's. He remembered what Malfoy had been before. His eyes had been like Audrey's then, pale grey, penetrating. Now they had faded, almost to a watered-down white, eerie in his pasty face.

Percy stared back and desperately wished for a moment that he were sitting with Audrey and not her father. He swallowed and turned to the file in his bag. "Mr. Malfoy, your name has come up on a certain matter. In January of 1997, a muggle man was killed in upscale London." He raised his eyes to the blank-faced man across from him. "Your son has been cleared and able to account for his whereabouts elsewhere. Where were you on the night of January 13th, 1997?"

Malfoy remained expressionless. One might have thought he hadn't heard the question, didn't know Percy was even there.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"I...don't know." Malfoy weakened for a moment, then finished the sentence out with a fair measure of disdain.

Percy pressed on. He managed to wring some sort of alibi out of the man before him as the quick-quotes quill scribbled at his side. He kept his own notes on a spare parchment.

"Did you ever participate in muggle-killings, Mr. Malfoy?"

There was a pause. Then, "Yes." Percy already knew that, Malfoy had been convicted of more than a few crimes.

"Any in London?"

"No."

"Are you familiar with Michael Bones?"

Malfoy stared at him a moment as trying to place the name. "No."

Percy asked each question in his own time, studying Lucius' responses, movements, inflections. The man's voice shifted every now and then, and his hands began shaking once, his eyes trailing off. A second stay at Azkaban was clearly doing its work on him. Yet as varied as his behavior was, his answers were all the same. He knew nothing about the case. Percy at long last tugged out the picture of Michael Bones. "Do you know this man?"

"No."

Nothing. He knew nothing about the murder, at least. Percy turned to the other matter. Audrey.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Audrey Bones?"

"No."

Percy fiddled with his quill before asking the next question. "How many children do you have, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy stared at him as if not sure what to make of the question. "One."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Percy fumbled with his papers a moment and glanced over a parchment from St. Mungo's. "You have no daughter, born in 1977?"

"No." The answer was slow this time, cautious. They were treading new and uncertain ground.

Percy raised his eyebrows. "Well, I have a paternity test here that states otherwise." He waved the piece of paper. "You _do_ have a daughter, Mr. Malfoy, would you care to tell me about her?"

Malfoy's unfocused eyes became a little clearer as he was able to pinpoint one thing happening around him. "I have no daughter!" He snapped, leaning forward a bit.

Percy compressed his lips as he gazed steadily at Lucius Malfoy. He ducked his head again. "Can you give me the names, then, of any women who might have borne your child around 1977?"

Malfoy's eyes were growing larger, or perhaps it was a trick of the shadows.

Percy continued to study him. He would naturally deny it for his family's honor. But if he really didn't know...either Narcissa or another had neglected to tell him. Or was that possible? Keeping a pregnancy secret all the way through to birth would be next to impossible. Not Narcissa, then. And not a muggle nobody. Someone with access to a house-elf and a blanket bearing the Malfoy crest. A servant, perhaps? A laundrymaid? Someone close to him, but not too close...

Or someone smart enough to know how to hide her condition.

Percy twirled his quill in his fingers as he studied the man across from him. He turned his tone businesslike. "Mr. Malfoy. I can see that you are feeling the full effect of your stay here."

Malfoy glared at him.

"Perhaps, an exchange would be favourable. A deal. You've been here only two months in a year-long sentence. Perhaps I could make that year go a little faster if you talk." He stared at the rumpled wizard, waiting for him to start talking.

Malfoy's eyes paled a little more, and his pasty face fell. He searched a long time for words, several times opening his mouth and then closing it in desperation. At last, he burst out. "I know nothing, if I knew I would tell, I, I know nothing about this!" His words fell over each other in desperation to come out.

Percy put away his papers, rose and went to the door. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, that'll be all."

Malfoy's mouth opened again and for a moment he looked like he might cry out, might beg to go with Percy, but it shut again and not a sound came out. Percy stood by the door, looking down at him where he slumped. He was broken. He was a sick, ruined man with no help. After a moment he swept out and shut the door after him, locked it again and started down the hall.

He knew nothing. Percy had not spent nearly the time in this place that Malfoy had already. If anyone had offered _him_ a chance at escape, he would have taken it, would have taken it with no thought. Malfoy _had_ thought. If he had known anything, he would have given it all up, given up any honor he still claimed to have, and admitted anything. He would've owned up to anything he had left to own up to, but he hadn't. He really didn't know anything.

The mother, then. He would have to find the mother.

Oh, the things Death Eater wives could do.

Percy head his own footsteps echoing on the walls, heard the grunts of the prisoners as he passed their cells. He tried hard to forget that desperate need to be out, to be out of this place. He could feel it creeping up on him now...

No, that was a dementor. Percy flattened himself against the wall as a brooding black cloak fluttered past the hall just ahead, and for a moment-

_Freezing water. Oh, God, so cold..._

_Those teeth. Everywhere, all he could think about, because everything else in his mind and heart were being sucked out, sucked into that tooth-riddled mouth..._

He found himself sitting on the floor, sweating. He touched his own brow and found the sweat to be cold. Desperate to push himself back up, he scrambled to his feet and started for the staircase, the dementor now gone. He ignored the few faces that peered out at him from boxy windows.

He reached the doors and had to wait an hour. One of the prisoners had started a struggle. At the end of his wait, the aurors returned, shook hands with the warden, and scrambled out the doors, down the rock, ready to get to the boat and put a long distance between themselves and the prison walls. Percy had meant to look again at the graveyard, but he was distracted, too distracted, too eager to get away. They all hastened into the boat.

None looked back.

**A/N: I know Percy does not go to prison in the books, but I have a whole backstory in my head as to what happened to Percy in DH. Basically, he got arrested after the Trio escaped Malfoy Manor, because he was Ron's brother and he was already under suspicion anyways (I mean, come on, he's a Weasley).**


	13. Less than Home

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**I'm not sure this would work. But, I figure that the muggle government still has the birth/tax records of wizards, therefore they'd know they exist…so a muggle could technically find the street address of a wizard home, no? Maybe not…**

**Chapter 13: Less than Home**

"Aud..."

Audrey gave him a look.

He fell silent.

"Please. Look, this is really important to me. This Malfoy person may know something that I don't. Maybe he'll tell me."

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to know."

"Davis. Hush."

Davis hushed and stared out the window.

"Besides, you're with me. It's not like I'm alone or anything."

"Aud." He turned back to her. "This guy could've murdered your Dad. What makes you think I could take him?" He gestured to his lanky frame. "I'm not exactly Jet Li here."

She gave him another look. "He dumped me twenty years ago. He's probably old now. And he didn't do the murder by brute force, there were no wounds on the body. I'm not expecting you to fight Jackie Chan. Plus, we'll be careful. He doesn't need to know who I am or why we're here. We'll just be casual."

Davis looked away, shaking his head. "I dunno, Audrey..."

They were both silent for some time. Audrey spoke abruptly. "You do have your knife, right?"

He gave her a look this time.

.

Audrey followed the address from the book. It was a remote place in Wiltshire. There was a small town not far away, where their train had stopped, but the house was beyond that.

Davis followed Audrey reluctantly. "Audrey. What kind of a guy lives in the middle of the boonies like this when there's a totally okay village right over there?" His pointed finger indicated the way they had come.

Audrey shrugged. "Look, the house is somewhere on this road." She told him. "Maybe the guy runs a pig farm or something."

"Yeah, bull snot. This is a swamp." He retorted, less than enthusiastic about their outing.

She ignored him and kept tramping down the road. After a few minutes she stopped and waited for him to catch up with her.

"What?"

"That." She pointed. There was an odd cloud of fog covering their visibility just ahead.

"Audrey, this is stupid. Let's just go."

"No." She started forward. "The house could be in that fog."

"And why, pray tell, would there be fog around the house and nowhere else? Why would you build a house where there's fog? And...swampiness?"

"I don't know, maybe he likes privacy!" Audrey replied. They entered the thick cloud and Audrey felt the mist settle on her skin. It was slightly eerie. She reached out for Davis and grasped his wrist.

And then stopped abruptly, and felt him come to a stop with her.

Two great gates stood in front of them, with a wall disappearing in either direction. A huge M was set into both gates. They looked solid, and they were shut tight.

"Is he a billionaire?" Davis asked the air.

Audrey licked her lips, though they were already wet from the dew, and stepped forward. "We'll just ring." She decided. "If no one answers, we'll go." She too, though was a little intimidated by the apparent status of whomever lived inside. Percy had made it sound like living with this Malfoy would be a bad thing. In spite of herself, she stepped forward and searched the iron gates for a bell or a buzzer.

Davis seemed to read her thoughts. "Are you sure this is the right Malfoy?"

"Davis, there was only one listed in the phone book. And he didn't have phone number, so this address is the only place to find him." She stepped away from the gates. No bell. She stared through them, infuriated by the glimpse of a driveway, hedge, and garden they offered, just beyond her reach. She reached out to shake the heavy gates in frustration.

Her hand went through it. She stared a moment, then tried it again. "Davis."

"I see." He was beside her now, staring, equally perplexed, and equally fascinated.

She ran her hand through the gate several times, like smoke. Like fog. They looked so solid, so real.

"It must be some trick of the lights." He gestured. "You know, like in the movies, where they make a light-simulated image of a real thing."

She dropped her hands. "Why not just build a set of real gates?"

"Must've cost a fortune." He agreed.

She stared at the gates a moment longer, passed her hand through them again, then tugged her handbag up onto her shoulder and stepped through them and onto the other side. "C'mon Davis. There will have to be a bell at the door."

Davis followed her onto the drive, less hesitant than before. "Audrey, this is still weird. If anything, it's weirder."

"I get that, but we're here, let's not go back." She found herself whispering. The fog rolled around them, making the hedges blurry.

"Audrey, anyone could be in here. There could be dogs. There could be a man with a shotgun."

"Davis!" She hissed, trying to deny that she was equally spooked. "If there is a man in this fog, he's just as blind as we are. Now stop..." She stopped abruptly as a loud bang rang out, momentarily followed by a crunching sound.

Davis glanced down at the gravel beneath their feet. "Aud!"

"Someone's coming!" She realized at the same time. Both dove for the curve in the hedge, threw themselves down behind it.

The crunching of feet on gravel drew nearer, and Davis seized Audrey's arm, dragging her along a side-path through what looked vaguely like a garden. Both were crouching low, and neither looked back to see who had come out.

Audrey stopped after a few turns through the overgrown maze. "Davis, if we're here to see him, why are we running?" She stood up. "I want to see him."

"Well, I don't." Davis pulled her back down. "You're the one who jumped for the hedge first. You know we shouldn't be here. And you're still whispering at the same volume I am."

She peered over the hedge at the shape of the house. "Davis, this is ridiculous. I'm standing this close to the house of the man who might be my father. I'm going in." She rose and started down the path she hoped would take her to the house. "I know this is probably really stupid, but I have to try. I will try."

After a moment, he caught up with her. "Yes, this _is_ stupid, but I'm going with you anyways." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as the house became clearer. It was a lavish mansion, built of stone, with a terrace standing out in front. The two mounted the terrace, crossed it, and paused in front of the doors. Huge, double doors they were, with a heavy silver knocker set into one. Audrey hesitantly raised her hand and let the knocker fall.

There was a long pause after the thud, and no answer. Audrey glanced up at Davis, who was deliberately saying nothing.

Audrey knocked a second time. This time, the door creaked open just slightly. Audrey glanced up at Davis.

"Let's just stick our heads in." He advised. "Try calling out...wait, no,_ I'll_ stick _my _head in."

She stepped back and glanced over the gardens as he poked his head through the door. The view was very different from the terrace. The hedges were definitely overgrown, and there were weeds in the flowers, untrimmed bushes. A few statues posed gracefully in the distance as untamed vines clung to them.

"Aud." She turned back to Davis. "Look at this." He pushed the door open and took a few steps in. Audrey followed.

The inside must once have been as lavish as the outside. The floor was of marble, leading up to a carpeted staircase. There was a chandelier fixture above their heads, and vast frames on the walls. Both stood silent in the middle of it all. There was dust coating the carpet, and no chandelier where the fixture hung, and the frames on the walls were oddly empty.

"Maybe he moved." Davis muttered.

"But who..." Audrey moved a little forward, placed one foot on the red carpet of the stairs. There was dust on the banister as well, she discovered. "Who was that in the garden?"

Davis followed her without a word, both of them having forgotten about calling out by now. They crept through the house, peering around them. "Davis, I think you're right. I don't think anyone lives here. It's huge." There wasn't a light on in the house. There weren't even light fixtures in most of the rooms, only brackets and candlesticks on tables and walls. A few mirrors hung, several of them cracked, giving out shattered and eerie reflections. The air was stagnant.

"Aud." Davis tugged at her sleeve and pointed at the wall. She followed his gaze. There was a painting, of a window with a chair before it. A great, wooden carven chair, with a table beside it, and a single rose. Audrey studied it. There was no one in the portrait. Just an empty chair. She glanced further along the wall. Come to notice it, there were many like it. Couches, seats, gardens, sitting and waiting for someone to come and occupy them. But there were no people in any of the paintings.

"Weird." Davis studied them. "Why paint a bunch of sittings without a subject to sit in them?"

"I don't know." Audrey moved on, wishing abruptly that Percy were here. He'd understand this. He'd know what it meant, even if he didn't tell her all of it. Just having someone who knew and wasn't worried by it all was a comfort. "Do you know what this reminds me of?"

"What?"

"Miss Havisham's house from _Great Expectations_."

"Yeah. Know what it reminds me of?"

"What?" She crossed a wide room covered in ghostly white sheets, turned a full circle to make sure no one was waiting to jump out at her.

"The West Wing from _Beauty and the Beast_."

"Good one."

They turned a corner and jumped at the same time as a wall covered with a gilt mirror showed them their own reflections. Audrey put her hand to her chest and caught her breath. The her in the mirror looked small and pale. She might have elected to try and find a door out, or even climb out a window, had she not heard a distant mutter.

Both spun and stared back the way they had come.

"Did you hear that?"

"Like a whisper."

"Maybe it was us."

"I don't think so..."

Davis grasped her hand and tugged her through a door, then half-shut it and waited with their backs to the wall. Audrey leaned forward so they could both peer through the crack in the door.

A slight rustling noise came near. Light footfalls. Then a shadow fell over the door, and a slight figure came into view. It had it's back to the door, traveling the way they had been going. Audrey peered at it.

Long, silver-blond hair fell to the woman's waist. She was wearing some sort of a long gown in a pale color, with full sleeves and a skirt that trailed against the dusty carpet. She was a reasonably tall woman, though slender in frame. Audrey stared at her receding figure as she traveled slowly down the hall.

"Okay, if that was not a Disney princess, I don't know what." Davis whispered.

"I was going to say she looked like a ghost." Audrey stared after the woman long after she was gone. There had been something oddly haunting about her, whomever she was. If only she could have seen her face...

"Did you see her dress? And her hair? Total Disney princess, Aud."

Audrey grasped his hand and pulled him back into the hall. "She lives here. This place isn't exactly a fairytale castle, Davis."

"Let's get out of here."

"Agreed."

It proved to be easier said than done. The house was as much a maze as the gardens had been, a maze of dusty finery and abandoned luxuries. Just when Audrey thought they might have found their way through to the front hall again, a door slammed.

Davis tried a nearby door and found it locked. Footsteps came up the grand staircase, and both crouched behind a large vase, just peering out to see.

The young man was tall. And blond. Audrey abruptly recognized some of her own features in his face. Their chins came to the same point, but his face was narrower, his features sharper, and his hair was a pale platinum blonde. She sucked in her breath.

"Brother." Davis mouthed in her ear, and she silently swatted him back as the lone male disappeared through a door. So. People did live here.

Davis rose and both started for the stairs and then the door, when Audrey realized Davis was going the other way, the way the young man had gone. She waved frantically, daring not speak, but he gave her a look and knelt to peer through the keyhole. She reluctantly knelt beside him, and he offered her the better view. She peered through the keyhole.

The young man was visible, standing before a fireplace of some sort. The fireplace wasn't visible through the tiny peephole, but the flames flickered against his hair and his...dress? Audrey squinted. He was wearing some sort of a long garment with full sleeves that was mostly hidden by an even longer cloak. It was medieval style, with silver fastenings and a hood, worn down.

Audrey glanced at Davis, who had stuck his knife blade under the door to try and get a reflection of the room on the other side.

"There's someone out there." The young man spoke, startling Audrey back into attention.

"Perhaps it was the wind." A weak, wispy voice replied. It was a female, but Audrey couldn't see her.

The young man aimed a derisive glance at the carpet. "The wards went off, Mother. Only a person could do that."

Audrey could have smacked herself in the face. An alarm system. Of course.

"And the Anti-muggle ward went off." The young man continued, and Audrey's ears perked up. Anti-muggle? More queer words, now becoming familiar. "There's a muggle in our estate."

"He can't have got in without help." The wispy female replied. "The gates wouldn't have let them in. Didn't you set the muggle-repelling charm?"

"Of course." The boy sounded vaguely tired.

There was silence. Then, from the woman, "Do you think they could get in here?" She sounded quiet, and scared.

"Perhaps." The boy responded quietly. His hands were moving over a slender stick of wood. Audrey peered at it, wishing she had a better view. Percy had a piece of wood like that. It had hung out of his pocket once or twice, and it had lain on the counter when they'd had breakfast that last time she'd been to his flat. She felt her impatience mounting. What was it with these people? Percy knew about them, he would understand all about them.

She needed to talk to him. Tugging Davis' sleeve gently, she started down the stairs, grateful that they were carpeted marble rather than creaking wood.

She reached for the door handle and tugged. It didn't budge. She tried the other door and tugged again, glancing back up the stairs to the door through which the boy had gone. Davis was with her now, tugging at both handles. There were no locks to be seen.

The two faced each other.

"We're stuck!" He hissed.

She glanced back up at the door. "We'll break a window if we have to." She pulled him into one of the front rooms branching off of the hall. They both ducked behind a horsehair sofa for a conference.

"Audrey, this reminds me of a horror movie now. This is creepy."

"Don't be stupid." She tugged out her phone.

It wouldn't work. She fiddled with it, tried to turn it on or check for a signal, but nothing worked.

They were, indeed, stuck.

.

Percy kept his hood up long after leaving the prison. He definitely needed someone, anyone to go to, to talk to, to feel the warmth of human company and chase away the dementor's shades.

He'd thought of Audrey in Azkaban. Ridiculous. As if he could go to a Muggle and explain his problems to her. She wouldn't understand them, they were not her realm, not her sphere, not in her awareness. The conscious she lived in did not permit for him and his problems, or even his existence.

He couldn't go to Audrey, as much as he might like to fancy that she would listen and care and maybe think that was strong or brave to have survived...

No, he couldn't go, she didn't think of him that way, that was that. He would go to the Burrow. So there.

He landed at the Borrow near dinnertime, his visit to Azkaban having taken up most of his day.

Starting for the familiar screened door, he let his hood fall, wanted the darkness to wane, wanted to feel warm and at home again.

"Mother?" He called out once inside.

"Percy?" Ginny's red head appeared at the top of the stairs. She grinned a little and slid down the banister to meet him as it squeaked and trembled in protest. "Hi, Perce, you didn't say you were coming." She hugged him as only Ginny could and he hugged back, a little comforted as he buried his nose in her hair.

"I just thought I'd drop by. I was in the area." He murmured.

"Oh?" She drew back and looked up at him, perfectly aware that he had to be lying. The only reason to come into the area would be to visit the Diggorys, whose son's death was partially Percy's fault, or to see Luna in that crazy rook of a house that was half blown away. "Luna's come over for dinner." She said pleasantly.

Oh, damn. He didn't need that. The silvery girl who could stare right through anyone and tell exactly what she thought of them without fear of retribution simply because she was, well, Luna...and she was eerily perceptive. He didn't need her leaning over, sniffing him, and then announcing to his mother that he'd come within approximately six meters of a dementor five hours ago. No, he didn't need that.

Ginny was ushering him into the kitchen, tossing his cloak over a chair without comment on it not being the season for cloaks. She was talking about birthdays...oh, yes, he'd nearly forgotten. Both their birthdays were coming soon in August.

"What're you doing for your birthday?" He asked quietly, letting her ramble on half because he knew she liked to talk and half because he needed to hear it, to work the tension out of his system and feel like himself again.

She didn't have time for a proper answer before their mother appeared with Luna in tow.

"Percival." Mother cut off Luna's monologue on the bone structure of buttery spirits, coming forward to greet her son. "How are you?" Her surprise was obvious, understandable. He felt as she embraced him that he was being held at arm's length, being scrutinised. "What brings you here?" Because of course he'd never come over just for no reason. Because Percy didn't do that.

"I just...wanted to come over." He lied and they all knew it, and he felt himself sinking a little again. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Then you should have come before." Luna responded in that detached tone of hers, smiling slightly, sweetly, to herself. Irritating child.

"Yes, well I'm here now." He nearly snapped at her, but she didn't seem to notice, only turned to the carrots she cradled in her arms like a child, and prepared to chop them for a stew. They ought to make those stupid earrings of hers into a stew sometime, he thought grumpily. Radish earrings. Ridiculous.

He was already out of sorts when the family clock changed to show that Father was home.

The graying head of red hair bumbled into the kitchen to greet his wife as Percy watched and the girls chatted. She whispered something into his ear, and he glanced over at Percy and then pretended he hadn't when his son met his gaze. Father had never been subtle. And now they all thought he had some sort of deep ulterior motive.

Truth be told, he did. He did have an ulterior motive. He just wanted to warm up a bit, then go see Narcissa Malfoy, then go find some of the house-elves he still hadn't questioned.

But he'd been here fifteen minutes, and he wasn't any warmer. He wasn't hungry, either. He actually felt...rather sick. He could still smell the dementor's musky odor. Couldn't the others smell that? He glanced at Ginny. Apparently not, though Luna was staring at him steadily...annoyingly...unfadingly...

Her eyeballs were boring into his skull.

He needed to go.

"I'd better be running." He stood up abruptly.

"But Percy, dinner's nearly ready..."

"Well, I already ate." He snapped a little irritably. Dementors, dementors swimming behind his eyelids, and Luna Lovegood could see them, see them and read his mind... He reached for his cloak even if he didn't need it. "I'll be seeing you." He pushed out into the hall, his mother following him though her protests fell on deaf ears. He ran into Stupid Potter at the door, sidestepped him and was off the porch and past the apparition wards before he knew it.


	14. Demented

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**Thanks so much to all my wonderful reviewers! **

**Chapter 14: Demented**

Percy pushed through the door into Penny's building, stumbling a little. He should have come here first. She was the one who would understand, not his parents, not his family. He'd not told them much about what he'd done during the war. Not that they didn't care, weren't concerned, but there were simply better things to be done than sit around and mope about the past. Tragedy was tragedy, but they had all tried to move on. And Percy had never been particularly inclined to tell his own story.

Penny knew. He trusted her. And she was a healer, maybe she knew some potion that would get rid of the nausea...and the dementors.

He stopped in front of the brown door that was Penny's and knocked. Pounded, actually. She didn't answer. He glanced at his watch.

She was at work. She had a shift at St. Mungo's. Of course.

He put his head against the door and let out a breath, then apparated back to his own apartment building. Of course, there was no one to talk to. Had there ever been? He passed his landlady on the stairs and turned the corner to his flat, and stopped abruptly.

Lucy was standing there, clutching her handbag, worry lines covering her forehead and face.

"Lucy?"

She turned towards him. "Percy. I'm so sorry, but I realized I don't have your number, and I didn't know where to find you..."

"What is it?" He interrupted her, more sharply than usual. He was tired and he could not get the chill out of his bones, and she looked afraid.

"It's Audrey. She went out for the morning with a friend, only she wouldn't say where, and she promised she'd be back, but she isn't. I tried calling her, but her phone is unavailable."

"Do you have any idea where she might be?"

Lucy glanced at something crumpled in her hand. "I found this, and tore out the page." She handed it over.

It was page from some sort of book, listing names and strange numbers and addresses. In the center, with a thick black circle drawn around it, were printed the words MALFOY, LUCIUS.

He turned around at once. "Lucy, go home. I'll find her."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Lucy, go home!" He snapped hastily, spinning and starting down the stairs. He'd pulled his wand out at some point, and as soon as he was outside, he sent a patronus up to the ceiling. It was late, someone had to be available. "Charlie, meet me at Malfoy Manor if you can. Now."

He apparated outside the familiar gates and waited for either Charlie or a return Patronus to find him.

In a moment, Charlie appeared, still pulling a jacket on. "What's up?"

"Something bad." Percy turned and peered through the gates. "Audrey Bones, the girl involved in this case, she found out where Malfoy lives and I think she's in there." He explained all in a rush.

"Why the hell?"

"Because..." Percy shook his head and waved away the question. "I don't have time. If Malfoy caught her in there, she's..."

Charlie seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation, and nodded. "Right. Let's go."

Percy put his badge against the gates and they dissolved long enough for the pair to sprint up the drive.

"I hope you know," Charlie said as they mounted the terrace and approached the doors with their wands out, "That you just interrupted the ultimate game of Exploding Snap."

Percy rapped on the door with the knocker and waited a moment.

There was a long pause before it was opened, creaking, and Draco Malfoy stood on the other side. His lip was fighting to curl as he stood there.

"Malfoy." Charlie reached out to push him out of the way. "You know us, you know why we're here, so let's just skip to the interesting part."

Malfoy was reluctantly moved out of the doorway to admit them. Percy glanced around the hall and then turned to Draco. "Are you alone?" He asked, his tone clipped.

"My mother is here."

"Anyone else?" Charlie cut in. "Any guests? Anyone you might be considering lying to us about?" He had his wand out, kept his tone tight and threatening.

Draco glanced from one to the other, and for the second time that day, Percy felt that he was at a dead end with the Malfoys. Draco had no idea what they wanted, just as his father hadn't had the faintest idea what he had been interrogated about. He cleared his throat, hoping someone knew. "May we speak to Mrs. Malfoy?"

Draco's nose went just a bit higher in the air as he turned his heel and led them up the stairs. Charlie and Percy exchanged glances and followed after him.

.

Audrey leaned back against the wall as Percy and his brother disappeared up the stairs with the blond man.

"That's your policeman." Davis whispered. "He can get us out of here."

"We'll have to get his attention without the other guy noticing." She whispered back.

"He came here for us." Davis mused. "Your mother must have called him."

Audrey shut her eyes. Hours. They had been in this dark, dusty room for hours, muffling their sneezes and trying to plot a way out of the place without getting caught. They'd tried the door at every opportunity. The windows in the room were boarded and covered by heavy drapes. And now, her mother had missed her and called Percy, of all people (though honestly there was no one else to get them out of this mess), and when he found out she had come here, he would be furious. Providing she was actually able to get his attention.

They waited a long moment, occasionally peeking out to look up the stairs and wait for Percy and his brother to return.

At long last, there was the loud shutting of a door, and a clipped voice broke the silence that smothered the manor.

"I hope you're satisfied." The strange young man sounded contemptuous. Footsteps started coming down the stairs, and Audrey peeped out once more. Percy's brother was coming down the stairs, with Percy just behind him, as the young man stood and watched them go.

Percy's brother glanced up once and his eyes happened to light on her face. She tried to mouth something, then realized she didn't know what to say.

He stopped and turned around at once, and for a moment she was afraid he would turn her in. "You know what, Malfoy?" He snapped. "I'm _not_ satisfied." He began stubbornly to march back up the staircase. Percy looked at him askance as he stomped back up the stairs to where the thin pale boy stood. "You go on, Perce, I want to have a talk with this little shit again."

"Charlie..."

"Percy! _Move it_!" Charlie snapped, seizing the front of the boy's long robe and pulling him away.

Percy stared after him, spreading his hands in confusion.

Audrey seized Davis' hand the moment the other two were gone, and poked her head out. "Percy!"

He spun and gaped when his eyes found her. Bounding down the last few steps, he stepped into the darkened room with her. "Audrey!"

"Ssh! I don't want that guy knowing I'm here..."

He gritted his teeth and she realized she had in fact made him sufficiently angry. His hand grasped hers and he dragged her to the door, then threw it open and pulled them both out onto the now-darkened terrace. He didn't let go of her as he started down the drive toward the gates, glancing back once as the door swung open again. Charlie caught up with them a moment later. No one said anything as they approached the gates and passed through them again with ease.

"So." The other redhead breached the silence. "I assume this is the fair lady for whom we have been so ardently seeking?"

"This is Audrey. And David." Percy groused.

"Davis."

"Shut up. Audrey, this is Charlie."

"Percy." Audrey tugged her hand out of his and they all stopped as he turned to face her.

He held up his hand. "Why did you go there?"

"For answers."

"That's why you have me!"

"Well, you're not giving me much to go on!" She snapped.

"What, so you go to the house of a murderer for answers?" He demanded hotly.

"You never said explicitly anything about Lucius Malfoy, I was forced to come to my own conclusions."

He gave her a withering look and seemed to calm down a little. "Audrey." He stated through gritted teeth. "There are rules I have to follow. If you think I didn't mean to tell you something, don't act on it. You could have been killed! You have no idea of the things that have happened inside those gates. To people...to anyone!"

She fell silent, crossing her arms defensively. There was a silence as Percy spun again and she noticed for the first time that he, too, was wearing a funny long robe. She glanced up at the shorter redhead as he took her arm and glanced warily back the way they had come.

"So was that Lucius Malfoy?" She asked.

"No. That was his son, Draco."

"So then who's Lucius?"

"I told you. Or, you'll have figured it from that book you looked at. He's your father."

"_Wha—_?" Charlie gave a sudden, strangled gasp and leapt as far back from Audrey as he could, instantly releasing her arm. "What—Percy, I just _touched_ her!"

Audrey stared at him in surprise, not sure yet whether to be offended. Given his tone of horror and disgust, it did sound uncommonly like an insult.

"No!" Percy put his hand to his head. "No, not like that."

"Then like what?" Charlie demanded warily, keeping several meters between Audrey and himself. He had his hand in his pocket, and she had an uncomfortable queasy feeling that he was armed. Percy stalked over to him, dragged him not far away, and began whispering. The two held a short conference, followed by a long pause as Charlie stared up at Percy, then put his fist to his mouth and looked away. His shoulders twitched once.

"It's not funny!" Percy thundered.

Charlie sniggered. "Yes it is. It's hilarious. It's ironic. Let's go tell him."

"No!" Percy seized his brother's much thicker arm and pulled him back. "No, no, we can't."

"Well, why not?"

"For the very same reason we didn't need him finding out she was there before. For the very reason we thought he might have violently kidnapped and killed her. Because he would kill her. The Malfoys would do anything to protect their family's honor."

"I don't think Draco would. He's too weak, too scared now."

"Well, Lucius isn't. Or he won't be, when he gets out of Azkaban."

Charlie seemed to consider that for a moment before agreeing. "Pity, though, they can't by told. They'd die of shame. I'd like to see that." He gave Audrey a look of appreciation, apparently having reversed his earlier perception of her character. "I don't know how I didn't see that before. She looks just like Dracola, except with black hair."

"She does not. And stop calling him Dracola, it's insulting."

Charlie gave Percy a look aside as they all began to walk again. "Awfully fond of the Malfoy family all of the sudden, are we, Perce?"

Percy didn't respond, and Audrey decided not to say anything more. With Charlie around, she got the impression that she wasn't going to get a whole lot of information out of Percy, and Davis wasn't exactly supposed to know anything about this at all. Percy had properly managed to shame her in front his brother, and so she simply followed in silence.

The sharp deedle-deedle of her cellular phone rang out, making Charlie jump and spin around fully twice before pinpointing the source. She pulled it out of her pocket. Of course, it was Mum. "Just a minute." She hit the call button and stepped away as she thought she heard Charlie ask, "What is it?"

"Mum?"

"Audrey? Where have you been?"

"I'm fine, Mum, I'm on my way home."

"No, darling, stay there. Percy's on his way."

"I know, Mum, he's already here with me, we're coming home now."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Percy Weasley. He's coming."

"I know, he's here with me."

"But...where are you? I just talked to him, just over ten minutes ago, here in London."

"I'm in Wiltshire." Audrey turned to glance at the tall redhead. "You did?"

"Yes. He can't be there with you yet."

Audrey looked back at Percy. "Well, he's here now. I'm looking right at him." Neither said anything for a moment, before Audrey spoke again. "I'll just catch the next seat back and talk to you later." After saying goodbye, both hung up, slightly puzzled. Audrey gazed down at her phone a moment before walking back to where the three men waited. "Um, Percy, How did you get here?"

"By train." He told her. "Why?"

She raised her eyebrows. "My mother said you were just in London ten minutes ago."

His face twitched a little, and he said nothing as he searched for an answer, before simply deciding upon the easiest one.

"It was a fast train."

Audrey glanced at Charlie. He was gazing innocently up at the stars with both hands shoved into his pockets. _It was a fast train._ Yeah, right. "Okay, then..." None of them said anything until they reached the town again and obtained tickets back to London.

They were mostly silent on the ride home. By some mutual agreement, Percy kept Audrey close and Charlie kept tabs on Davis. There was some whispering between Charlie and Percy, several glances over at Davis, but Audrey couldn't discern what they were saying.

"They're talking about me." Davis whispered to her nervously.

"It's my fault." She whispered back. "I told you some things I wasn't supposed to, and I dragged you in there. It was more dangerous than I realized, and I'm sorry."

He said nothing, but kept a nervous eye on Charlie, who hadn't removed his hand from his jacket pocket in a while.

Percy broke from the brother's parley to speak to her. "Audrey, call your mother and tell her I will get you home later. I'll need to ask you some questions before I can let you go."

She tugged out her phone. "I would've called her in the house, but my phone stopped working entirely."

"Yeah," Charlie put in sympathetically. "Isn't that what happens? Isn't it that all their ekeltracity thingies don't work inside or near wards?"

Percy not-so-subtly kicked his brother's shin. "Yes, Charlie, that's how it works. And hush, we don't know what she heard.

" And it is pronounced _electricity_."

Charlie rubbed his shin and said nothing, but glared back at his brother once Percy wasn't looking.

.

When they reached London, Charlie seized Davis and bade them farewell with a jovial, "Off to the Ministry!", and then left the other two.

Percy hailed a cab and they rode to his flat, saying little on the way.

"Don't you have an office?" She asked once.

"Yes, but only those with proper permission can go to it, and only at proper hours." He replied as they pulled up at his office. "You're not permitted, so as much as you may dislike me, you'll have to bear with answering some questions here."

She followed him out feeling the need to defend herself. "I do not dislike you, I dislike that fact that you're still trying to hide things from me that I feel I should know."

"So you can go tell them to your friend Davis and get him in trouble?" He asked innocently as he held the door for her.

"What are you going to do to him?" She asked.

"Our job." Percy responded tightly, escorting her up the stairs. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what Charlie was to do to Davis. He pushed open his door, glanced around for any stray red heads, and sat her down. "I'll be back." If course with Audrey around, he'd have to use a pencil instead of a quick-quotes quill. He scowled and grasped one of the tedious muggle writings instruments and returned to the living room.

"All right. Where did you hear the name Lucius Malfoy?"

"I heard you say it." She told him dully. "You were talking. Sometimes you talk so much you get carried away with your own intelligence."

He resisted the urge to glare at her. When he'd thought back in Azkaban that he was going to go see her, this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. He'd been hoping for a more fond, sweeping, possibly even affectionate, reunion. But he'd been demented (well, _more_ demented) then, and his irrational mind had been carried away. This, this working relationship, this was them for now. "And how did you find out where he lived?"

"I looked him up for a number in the phone book. There wasn't one listed, but after a little looking I did find a street address, in Wiltshire. So I just had to track down that address."

"And what possessed you to do such a stupid thing?" He asked tightly.

She was silent for a long moment. Yes, it had been stupid. It had been a good idea, poorly carried out. She ought to have gone about it more...rationally. Yes, more reasonably, just like Percy. God, she could make herself feel stupid just by thinking about him now. She cast a glance across at him again and noted the details. A tired, tired face, and more pale than she had seen him ever look before. Or perhaps that was just the long, dark clothes he wore. She'd never seen such an outfit before.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, hoping to appease him a little. "I know it was stupid. My father...the man I will always consider my father is dead. And I want the man who did it. If that man is my biological father, than I'm not afraid of him, and..."

"You should be." He cut in harshly, and kicked himself as she looked hurt. He'd always had a talent for being callous in the face of other people's emotions.

But wouldn't he have done the same thing? Hadn't he done the same thing, when Fred died?

_No, that was different. I was trained, I had a wand, a weapon, I knew what I was getting into. It was war, we were all in danger anyways. I had to fight. I'm a wizard. _

_And she's not._

He focused on the words he'd written already, pretending to be reading them when he was really trying not to think. He didn't need this tonight. He didn't need the smell of the dementors still on his robes, he didn't need the fog from Malfoy Manor still dampening his skin, he didn't want to think about Audrey and how yes, he'd admit it, he liked her, but she was not made for him. No, he didn't need to think about any of that tonight, what he needed was a bath and a bed and a book.

And Audrey was still sitting there. Waiting.

He was just sitting there, staring down at his paper, his red hair a little fuzzy from too much moisture. He wasn't even looking at the paper anymore, he was staring through it, as if his eyes were daggers just stabbing through the thick, creamy paper and past it. And he was wearing all black, and looked utterly defeated. He hadn't said anything for several minutes.

"Percy?" She broke the silence, a little afraid to.

He snapped up so abruptly she might have thought he'd fallen asleep.

"What? Oh. Oh, yes. Where was I?" He continued professionally, as if nothing had gone wrong.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He brushed off her question as if it were a pesky fly and rattled his papers. "Now. Your friend Davis accompanied you?"

"Yes. Reluctantly. He only went because I told him the man might be involved in a murder, and he wanted me to be safe. He didn't mean any harm. I take full responsibility for...for whatever you're going to do." She replied humbly.

"How did you get in?"

"We walked through the gates...I mean, through them." She tried to gesture the experience. "Like they were smoke. They didn't open, they just kind of dissolved. We figured they were one of those light-beam simulation things..."

"And you weren't challenged or stopped?"

"No." She walked him through their entry, their exploration of the house, the encounter with the strange woman, the sighting of the young man, and then the hours they had spent hiding in the front room trying to plot a way out. Percy took down her story without further comment or scolding, and she didn't try to argue with him. Wherever his mind was, it wasn't here in this room, and it was scaring her just the slightest bit.

At last he laid down his pencil. "Is there anything else?"

"No." She replied meekly.

"Copacetic." He glanced at his watch, not surprised it was late.

"Percy, are you...sure you're all right?"

He raised his eyes to hers.

"I mean, I know it's none of my business, but there's clearly something up, and if I could help..." Her voice trailed off. "I would." She ended quietly.

_Everthing's brilliant. My brother is dead, and I'm presently having flashbacks to my time in one of the most horrific prisons known to man. How are you? _

God, where was Penny when you needed her?

They were staring at each other, and then she moved to sit a next to him. He was just sitting there, looking rather lost and forlorn (and probably not meaning to). She placed her hand on his shoulder. "You can talk to me."

Talk? Who wanted to talk? He tugged his gaze away from her grey eyes. He wasn't going to look at those eyes now. He was still slightly demented, still too stressed and too staggered to know what was good for him. He wasn't going to look at her face, with that pale, smooth skin. Or her hair, black as a raven and all shiny, falling around her face and her neck, and her throat. He wasn't going to think about her neck, no matter _how_ nice a throat she had...and he definitely, certainly, absolutely was not going to look at or think about her mouth, no matter how soft and pliable and enticing it looked, no matter how good her lips might taste or how comforting they might feel against his own mouth...

He woke from his reverie to find himself very close to that face, very close to all those things he had just said wasn't going to think about...or look at...or touch.

Audrey was leaning toward him, waiting. He could feel her breath on his lips.

He pushed his mouth against hers, closing the gap between them. She kissed him back and he had been right, it did clear the mind. The dementors seemed to soar away suddenly as he tugged Audrey closer and angled his head to lean deeper into the kiss. He couldn't have said where his hands were, but they were somewhere warm. He was feeling very warm all over all of the sudden.

He didn't actually want the kiss to end. He would have liked to go on forever like that, would have liked to keep her that close and just keep snogging for all eternity if that was what it took to keep the bloody dementors at bay, but eventually, he knew he would run out of air.

Both broke away, and he drew in a breath, looking down at her as she looked away and ran a finger over her lips.

And then, of course, reason came crashing down.

She was a squib. A muggle-raised squib. This was nonsense. He couldn't run around snogging with a muggle, and that's why he'd held himself off before, and he couldn't run around snogging with a squib. And that was why he was pulling himself away, standing up and collecting his papers now.

"What...what are you doing?"

"Working." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The dementors were gone, he was sane now, time to return to the professional realm. He chanced a glance down at her.

She was still sitting, her mouth a little open, staring as if not sure what to make of him. "That's..." She began, and he already knew the rest of the question.

_That's it?_

_What are you doing, Percy Weasley? _

_I have no idea,_ he responded. This was not the way to handle this. What was the way? Explain that he had been driven partially out of his mind by soul-sucking dementors haunting his past, and thus, the kiss had not occurred in his right mind, and thus, counted for naught...? No, somehow that didn't sound right.

Then what was he to do? Just kick her out with no explanation? Perhaps that would be best. After all, he as a pureblood wizard could never have a relationship with her. It would be pointless, go nowhere, and Percival Ignatius Weasley did not do things pointlessly. Kicking her out would finalise that she need not expect any future displays of demented affection stemming from a weakened mind.

But then she would hate him, and her mother would hate him, and he didn't want that.

Bugger. He was a diplomat. He could handle this diplomatically. Consider it practice for when he was someday running the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He sank back down beside her.

"Audrey." He said carefully. "It's late. I don't want to make things complicated for you or for your mother. Not tonight." He gazed down at her, putting every ounce of sincerity into his voice. But damn, now that he was here next to her he wanted to kiss her again. It would be so easy just to lean in quickly...

She nodded slowly. "All right..." Her gaze strayed to her lap. "All right, then. I should go."

_Yes, you should, before I snog you senseless. _

He nodded wisely. "Your mother will be waiting up."

She gathered her purse and he gave her what news he had on the case. She asked after Davis, and he reassured her that he wouldn't be in any trouble, it had been a minor incident easily forgotten. He warned her carefully not to ever discuss the incident with him again, even privately, and never to re-involve him.

Just before she left, she glanced down at her shoes, then up at him. Going onto her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek and then drew back. "Thanks, Percy." She said sincerely before turning to go.

He shut the door after her, trying hard not to pull her back and tell her just how welcome she was.

His glasses bumped the door as he rested his forehead against it.

_Stupid dementors._


	15. Girls

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**Not sure I like this chapter, but here you go…Oh,and I'm upping the rating to Teen. Not because I'm planning on adding anything dirty or racy, but simply because I think the overall content /storyline is a little mature for K+.**

**Chapter 15: Girls**

He was awake again at five, scouring his notes. Of the twenty-seven house-elves the Malfoys had owned, he had tracked twelve. Four more had died. Though Percy wouldn't have been surprised to find that the Malfoys had a few black market elves in their possession, he was staying off that possibility for the absolute last.

He'd talked to Narcissa, briefly. She'd said she knew nothing of any child born and disposed in her house, to a servant or anyone else. Then again, he probably ought to conduct a lengthier interview. He'd only had a few moments to ask her, whilst he and Charlie had been looking for Audrey...

Not thinking about Audrey.

_Not thinking about Audrey. _

So that left him eleven house elves still untraced. He shuffled through the paperwork. One had been repossessed by Andromeda Tonks...why she wanted the thing was beyond him, but he'd have to pay her a visit nonetheless.

He paused a moment as he realized that Andromeda Tonks, his mother's now dearest friend, was Audrey's aunt by marriage. Strange...

Not thinking about Audrey.

Yes, so now there were ten elves yet to find. Aside from the one given to Mrs. Tonks, the elves had been sold off in mass to various families...

He studied the sale records. Five had gone to Smith Industries, with the sale records bearing the signature of Asher Smith. But where were the other five? Five house elves yet unaccounted. Any one could have been the one that birthed Audrey, hid her away, and carried her to the restaurant where she was found.

There was a sharp knock on the door and he glanced up with annoyance. After a moment he felt several of the wards disappear. Dropping his papers, he sighed, crossed the room, and undid the rest of the spells himself, then yanked the door open to find...Penny.

She looked worried as she pushed past him into his flat. "Percy, are you okay?"

"Er..." He shut the door. How did she know? "Yes, how did you..."

"My landlord. He said you came by, he said you looked distraught. And then your mother sent me a patronus, and she said you were out of sorts. I would've come earlier, but I was at St. Mungo's...Percy's what's up?" She peered at him closely through chocolate brown eyes. "Are you...alone?"

"Yes, Penny, I'm alone." He gestured to the couch. "I'm fine, but if you want to sit."

She sat at once. "What are you doing?"

"Working on a case. Trying to work on a case." He corrected himself.

"Distracted?"

He shrugged, pushing aside his neat papers to sit down again.

She watched him. Well, hadn't he wanted to talk to her? He glanced her way, wondering if it would be awkward. She was his ex-girlfriend, for Merlin's sake! But then again, who else could he go to for advice? Charlie? His mother?

"There's this girl." He blurted awkwardly.

"Really." She didn't seem surprised.

He eyed her warily.

"You have lipstick on your face." She leaned forward and pointed to his mouth. "Right there."

He flushed the famous shade of Weasley scarlet and wiped it away self-consciously. "Anyways." Why did she have to be such a show-him-up Ravenclaw?

She was biting back a coy smile. "And I take it you like this girl? So much," She glanced over his papers, "That she's distracting you from your work. Pretty impressive. I could never do that."

He ignored the underhanded blow and pushed his glasses up. "She _is_ my work." He informed the witch across from him. "She's involved in a case I'm working on."

"Oh, of course. A convenient work relationship." Penny nodded.

"Are you going to be of any help?" He demanded.

She smiled gently. "I'm kidding, Percy. You and I was a long time ago, I'm only joking with you. Really, though, what's her name?"

"Audrey Bones."

"And what about this relationship is so difficult that a Gryffindor egghead Ministry worker couldn't work it out?"

"I like her." Percy said carefully.

"And..."

"I don't want to."

She picked up his empty teacup and swirled it in her hands. "Why?" She asked quietly.

He threw his hands up. "Penny, she's a muggle!"

"And you're worried about half-blood progeny?"

"No..."

She gave him a look. "Percy, I know you never start a relationship, never start _anything_ for that matter, unless it has potential to be worth your time and effort in the long run. I also know you believe in keeping your bloodlines pure. I don't have a problem with that, but I do think you let old ideas get in the way of new thought."

"It's not that." Percy said firmly, not denying his preference for purebloods. "She is pureblood."

Penny's eyebrows went up fractionally. "Interesting. A pureblood muggle. Explain how that works."

"She's a squib, but she's been raised by muggles...I can't really explain it all, but the blood thing isn't what's holding me." If anything, it made Audrey that little bit more perfect. She was one of the few purebloods left in the country he could actually stomach the sight of. "It's...Well, she's a muggle."

"And? If she's pure of blood, there should be no problem."

"But it's not..." Percy ran a hand through his hair, trying to explain himself. Audrey was almost certainly pureblood, so he didn't have that concern if the relationship ever did turn serious. She was far distanced from his own world, a refreshing change from the constant state of fear or frenzy of most in the wizard world. That was just it, though. What made it easiest also made it hardest. "She's a muggle. Wizards and muggles...it just doesn't work! It would be awkward, hard, and she'd give up eventually, knowing I'm keeping secrets from her, and the relationship would end, and seeing as how I know that now, it'd be unreasonable to even start one."

"What's she like?"

"She's not the type to just hang there while I lie to her face." Percy told her. "She's quite close to her family, she works hard, and she's taking some impossibly complex course in mathematics at a muggle school, so she's quite smart. She's...also a little sneaky. And she's _very _determined."

"Is she pretty?"

"Well..." Percy had trouble answering that question since he'd realized just how much like a Malfoy Audrey looked.

"Here, I'll put it in big words so you can understand. Does she possess characteristics which are physically and aesthetically pleasing to your masculine senses?" Penny enunciated carefully.

"...Yes."

"All right, then, she's pretty."

"Yes, but that's not the point." Percy said. "I don't want to like her. I...I haven't, up until now. I ignored the whole thing, and it was easy. It would blow over, I'd finish the case, and we'd never see each other again, no problem."

"But? I'm assuming that plan went to pot somewhere, considering the lipstick-on-the-face item."

He glanced away. "I lost my head for a moment, and then we snogged, and now I don't know what to do. Whatever she's thinking, I'll just have to tell her it was a mistake."

"No!" Penny sat up. "Percy, you can't do that, you like the girl. And she likes you!" She seemed as desperate to see him settled at his own mother did, which Percy considered slightly disturbing, taking into account their past relationship.

"But that's not the point!" Percy argued. "It would never go anywhere, it would be difficult on both of us, and frankly, I don't have the time."

"Well, _make time_!" Penny told him off, her eyes snapping in that old familiar way. She'd said that very thing after he'd stood her up because he had to go to the office with Mr. Crouch. "Percy, you need this now. Regardless of how it ends, I think you need it. You asked for my advice, there it is."

"I don't need..."

"You do." Penny confirmed. "For the very reason you were sitting here alone working. Your family has each other, but you'd never go to them for support, never. You're not like that. You only come to me as a last resort, and you're too dignified to let anyone else in on your problems. You need someone to snog or even just to talk to. You need to heal, and that's not going to happen on your own."

He glowered at the coffee table and his organised files and documents. A good argument he couldn't truthfully disagree with. "But not with her." He said. "I couldn't just use someone for my own emotional good and then throw her away when I'm feeling better."

"No, you can't. So keep her. You obviously want her."

"But it's not about what I want!" Percy turned to her, trying to explain himself one last time. "It's not about how I feel, or what I want. Feelings are stupid, flighting, I won't trust myself to that. I've got to be logical about this. Relationships are a choice, and I've chosen to ignore how I feel and to do what I know is right. To do otherwise would be illogical. I've got to be logical." He repeated. "Otherwise I'll end up in all kind of a mess. Forget what I want, it's about what's sensible and will succeed."

"Percy, I'm a Ravenclaw. I'm more logical than the next person." She swirled the teacup in her hands again. "And it's only illogical from your viewpoint. A. You're very practical, you don't get into relationships unless the person is someone you won't be wasting your time with. B. She's pureblood, she meets the most important criteria. C. She's supposedly a muggle, so being with her will draw you away from all this pain and rot. And D. You need her right now. She fits your all of your little qualifications for a relationship. As I see it, it satisfies both your _logic_ and your _emotion_. And contrary to what you might believe, yes, Percival Ignatius Weasley, you _are_ a human being and you _do_ have emotional needs."

Why did she have to be such a Ravenclaw? He leaned his head back and tried not to watch her sitting there peering at the tea leaves in his cup. When she put it that way, it made sense, and he wasn't sure quite what the problem had been in his mind before.

"So how was it?" Penny paused to squint at a lump of tea leaves.

"What?"

"Whatever went on."

He shrugged. "It got my mind off things."

"What things?"

"Dementors." He responded drily.

The teacup clinked against the table. "Dementors?" Her tone had gone from passive to serious. "Have you been having flashbacks?"

Percy avoided her eyes. "I don't really want..."

"To talk about it? I'm a healer, Percy, if you need Sleeping Potion or Focus Pills or something, I should know."

"You won't like it." He knew she wouldn't. She'd be angry.

"What is it?"

"Please..." He glanced at her, aware of how stubborn she could be in a rage. "Please don't get too mad."

She gazed at him, the chocolate brown eyes having turned suddenly more calculating.

He sighed. "I went to Azkaban." He mumbled, not looking at her. Waiting for it.

A hand snapped across his face painfully, and he winced as the blow stung his cheek. A moment later, she slapped him again, apparently devoid of words to express herself.

"Ow. Penny..."

"What were you thinking?" She snapped fiercely. The chocolate eyes had hardened now.

He avoided her eyes.

"After all..." Her words dropped off as she seemed too indignant for rebuke. At last, she burst out, "Why on earth?"

"I...had to." He said slowly. "I needed to go, as a part of my investigation."

"Couldn't someone else have gone?" She demanded, still angry.

He said nothing for a long while. He didn't know what she was doing, he was looking away.

"You could have been killed." She said after a long silence.

He didn't debate the point, and didn't remind her that dementors didn't kill, they sucked. After another long silence (neither seemed to know what to say), she blew out her breath. "No wonder you were cross with your parents."

At least someone understood.

"And no wonder..." She shook her head so that he couldn't see her face. "Well, that explains a lot about the girl."

"Yes." He agreed tentatively. "Loss of control, I'm afraid. Won't happen again."

"It had better." Her tone was not one to be argued with.

.

Again, there was a comfortable pause before he cleared his throat and spoke. "I saw Fallan."

She looked up suddenly, and she didn't have to ask, he knew she wanted to know. "Is alive?"

"He was locked up in a cell. Crazy. Raving mad, chained to a wall."

"Good." The one word was tight. He could at least offer her that consolation. The head warden who had kept them both imprisoned was suffering his fair due. She didn't have to say anything more. She'd been thrown into Azkaban in January, and it was only now August. The scars got there were still fresh, very fresh for her.

"I should go to the Ministry." He murmured. "Or...find Charlie. He had some business with the AMRS I ought to look into."

"The Accidental Magical Reversal Squad? Whatever for?"

"Don't ask." He pushed himself off the couch.

She stood with him, her St. Mungos' scrubs rustling as she followed him. "Percy."

"What?"

"Don't go back."

"I'm not."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"To the Ministry? No, you don't have..."

"I won't sleep either way." She reminded him ruefully, and he wondered if he should have waited to tell her. Waited until a better hour, when she hadn't just got off an all-night shift at the crowded St. Mungo's in the aftermath of the worst war in a long time.

Damn the war. Did everything in his head have to come back to that? Maybe Penny was right. Maybe he did need something else to think of. "Go home." He told her. "Sleep. Be logical. Fallan's locked up, he can't hurt you."

"You're not the only one with nightmares." She reminded him as they descended the steps of the building. "I can still feel that cold water."

"I can still smell the blood." He replied drily before both fell silent as they passed the landlady's daughter, the happy ignorant muggle girl who lived downstairs and had no idea...no idea at all. Percy glanced over at Penny.

"Do you wish you were like that still?"

"Yes." She replied, lifting her head. "Sometimes. Sometimes, I'm not sure it's all been worth it. All that, a whole war and hundreds of deaths...for what? So I can give painkillers to the wounded and lollipops to children as consolation for the parents who died on the operating table. Do you?"

"I was never like that." He reminded her as they pushed out the front doors. "I was born into war."

She didn't argue, but turned to hug him before they apparated their separate ways. "If you ever need to talk, send me one of your Patronuses."

He nodded, knowing he never would. She spent a lot of time in the muggle world, after all, it wouldn't be sensible.

"And when I don't respond," She continued, "Buy a telephone and call this Audrey person so you can talk to her."

He muttered something unintelligible about muggle contraptions and let her go. A moment later, he was in the Ministry Atrium, heading for the elevator and the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.

.

Percy knew he was hard-headed, more hard-headed than the next person, but even he wasn't foolish enough to ignore Penny's advice on a topic she could easily understand from both sides.

Feeling vaguely guilty about his poorly masked attempt to get rid Audrey on the night of the Malfoy Manor incident, he braved his courage a few days later to request she join him for coffee sometime. Not a date, properly, but certainly nothing to do with work. He was completely astonished when she accepted at once.

He slowly forced himself to brave her world. Penny said he needed healing, needed human comfort, and he couldn't deny that she was right. Slowly, gradually, he worked towards some far distant point when he could actually confide in her. It was doubtful he ever would, doubtful his world could ever be diluted enough to be poured into the ear of a muggle, and yet, he kept going back to her. What she saw in him he didn't know, or perhaps she was only out for her own gain, but that didn't stop him. He'd been used before by others, he was strong enough not to be manipulated beyond his own control, wasn't he?

She hadn't pushed for details or names, though; she hadn't even mentioned her father. She seemed to have learnt her lesson. She seemed to think she understood the seriousness of the situation, but Percy knew that despite her brush with the danger lurking in Malfoy Manor, she had no real concept of what might have happened there. She was innocent, she was ignorant, and though he might push away his guilty feelings about leading her on in a relationship, he knew deep down that sooner or later, the questions would begin again. She was smart, and she had already begun to notice things. He would have to be extra careful from now on.

.

Their first non-work meeting, and they'd spent three hours just walking and talking, doing nothing, really, but wasting time. Percy had a surprisingly biting sense of humour in spite of his clean appearance, which he'd been quick to blame on his brothers. Audrey found at the end of the afternoon that she'd enjoyed herself more than expected, and more than that. She had not once all day thought about her father or about the case, an interesting and potentially disturbing detail about Percy she filed away for later contemplation.

She'd been unsure what he had in his mind after she'd left him that night, but he had surprised both her and her mother when he'd asked her to spend an afternoon with him. Lucy had squealed like a girl when she'd found out, though Audrey was careful not to give too many details about where the two stood with one another.

Her mother had declared Percy to be 'a truly good sort' after the incident at Lucius Malfoy's mysterious estate. Audrey had told her every detail of the jaunt inside the mansion, and Lucy had agreed that (a) it had been very foolish, and, (b) there was something very strange about the whole case. It seemed to have taken a bizarre turn into some unreal realm that was trying very hard to keep them out. Though Audrey tried to place her trust in Percy and asked him no more about the case, she couldn't help at night, when she was repeatedly visited by cloaked figures, cracked mirrors, and the pale blond man in her dreams. For a year she'd envisioned her father's killer as a short, dark man in a dark jacket who breathed hard into her nightmares. He had become abruptly replaced by the image of a tall, elegant man, black-cloaked and pale-haired, with a queer name…Lucius Malfoy.

Unlike Lucy, Davis seemed content never to mention the event again. He didn't bring it up, and neither did she. She was concerned about him, but dared not ask because of Percy's warnings. A few days after the incident, Davis' girlfriend Anna phoned Audrey to ask just why Davis had broken up with her. Audrey was left only to assume that he wanted to focus on the upcoming fall semester at university, even as his grades hiked abruptly beyond his usual level.

Audrey, on the other hand, spoke privately with Lucy, who agreed that if she wanted a break from her year-round academic pursuit, she had certainly earned one, especially in a time when she wasn't focusing well anyways. With that in mind, Audrey began looking for a job to fill her time.

Percy's own work seemed to keep him well filled when he wasn't with her. Though he still didn't speak much about it, she could feel out when had had a successful or fruitless day. What kind of investigation he was doing exactly he didn't say, but he'd mentioned questioning several people...who exactly, he hadn't specified. But from that statement she gathered that there were people to be asked. People who knew. People living inside that bizarre twisted realm, letting him in, pushing her out.

Days passed, and she sated herself with job searches and house duties, but always in the back of her mind, there was a mansion inside a cloud of fog in Wiltshire...something she was missing. Something that was right beneath her nose, right on the other side of the door.

And Percy knew, had to know, just what it was.


	16. Half a Story

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**Sorry about the delay in posting, and I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. I have a job, a life…you know, all that stuff that gets in the way of things. Oh, and thanks for the reviews, you chaps are the best. **

**Chapter 16: Half a Story**

Percy pushed his glasses up his nose and straightened his robes as he pushed open the white gate to the small cottage ahead of him. It was a mild day, the windows were open, and he knocked with confidence on the door.

The woman who opened it was tall and still elegant despite her humbled surroundings. It was almost hard to tell now that Andromeda Tonks had been born a Slytherin Princess, like her sister Bellatrix. Her ink-black hair was slowly graying, but her face didn't look too much aged. "Mr. Weasley, please come in." She smiled politely and admitted him entrance, having been informed beforehand of his coming.

"Thank you, ma'am." He noted that her smile, though warm and welcoming, had the look of one that had to be reinforced. She'd been told he wanted to ask some questions. No doubt she feared he wanted to ask _her_ questions. About her sisters. About her husband. Perhaps about her daughter. He was quick to put her at ease. "I've come to speak to," He checked the name on his list, "Wiffle. I believe he is your house-elf."

Her brows rose only fractionally, but her face loosened. "Of course. I suppose you'd rather get right to business."

"Does my mother speak of me that often?" He asked, half genuinely curious, half trying to put her at ease. He knew that she and his own mother had been a great comfort to one another in the aftermath, despite the slightly uncomfortable fact that Molly Weasley had rather brutally killed Mrs. Tonk's sister.

"She's told me about each of you." Mrs. Tonks told him as she seated him in the small but sunny living area and served him tea. "I understand you're the industrious son. I expected when you owled that you'd be all business."

The industrious son. He wasn't sure how his mother would have phrased that. The same questions he'd always wondered about crossed his mind again. _Is she proud of what I do? Is she glad that I am what I am? Or even now, does she wish I were like the others? _He pushed his thoughts to be background. "I am indeed." He replied with a wry smile. "And this must be Theodore." He smiled at the yellow-haired boy banging blocks against the rug. Percy had had his share of experience with infants and children. The industrious son, he'd been out of diapers before Charlie had, and he'd at least tried to bring up each of his siblings right since then.

Teddy grinned toothlessly at him as his hair morphed quickly into the same bright red as Percy's was.

"Yes, this is he." Andromeda Tonks seated herself across from him as Percy reacquainted himself with the child. He could distinctly remember the boy's mother, an irritating older girl who knocked over everything and constantly blocked up traffic on the school staircases because she'd forgotten not to jump over the trick stairs.

Percy shifted his eyes from the child up to his grandmother. "And Wiffle lives here with you?"

"Yes." Andromeda's voice shifted as well. "He's been a help to me, with Teddy. I'm not as young as I was, and with Ted, my husband, gone..."

"Why Wiffle?" Percy asked softly. "Your family had many house-elves."

"The Malfoys had many house elves." She corrected him with a proud lift of her chin. "Wiffle was born into my parent's ownership, and he was one of our household help when I was young. He was given to Narcissa as part of her dowry."

Percy nodded, understanding the desire to distance herself from her biological family. "But you only wanted Wiffle."

"Yes." Andromeda said simply, laying her hands in her lap. "Wiffle was a good elf, and I wanted to redeem him from whatever the Malfoys had put him through. He's getting on in years, and I wanted him to at least be comfortable. And as I said, I needed the help." Her eyes strayed to Teddy, who was again pounding wooden blocks together.

Whatever the Malfoys had put him through. It was a telling statement. Wiffle would likely be as disturbed and confused as most of the other former Malfoy elves Percy had spoken with. The things they had put their own son through were horrific enough to scar him forever. The things they did to mere elves had to be far worse. "I'd like to speak with him, if it's all right."

"That's fine." She turned to the doorway. "Wiffle."

Hardly a moment passed before the small figure rushed in to stand attentively at her side. Aside from having even larger ears than those that normally graced his kind, he looked no different than any other house-elf, dressed in a tunic made of threadbare napkins. His enormous green eyes were fixed devoutly on Mrs. Tonks. "Missy Andy called Wiffle, ma'am?" Old age had made his voice squeaky.

"Wiffle, this is Mr. Weasley." The round green eyes turned on Percy. "He is here to ask you some things about Master Lucius and Mistress Narcissa."

The round eyes batted uncertainly once or twice before melting as the elf looked at the floor. "Yes, Missy Andy. Wiffle will talk to the Wheezy."

Rising, Andromeda gestured the elf to sit as she left Percy to his work, taking Teddy with her.

"Wiffle." Percy began, fixing his eyes on the fidgeting elf. "How long did you work for the house of Malfoy?"

Casting a longing glance at the doorway, Wiffle responded, "Wiffle was given to Missy Cissy for her wedding many years ago."

The uniting of the Black-Malfoy clans. It had been the social event of the century, Percy knew. He could easily get an exact date on it from the Prophet archives, for they would have covered the wedding. Probably, though, close around 1975...twenty-three years ago.

"Were they ever cruel to you?"

Wiffle stared long and hard at the floor, twisting his bony fingers together.

"Wiffle." Percy said it once, firmly.

"Wiffle does not wish to tell on Master Lucius and Missy Cissy." The elf whimpered weakly.

"Do you wish to remain loyal and caring to Mistress Andromeda?" Percy asked.

"Yes, Wiffle will do anything for Missy Andy, she is the kindest Mistress Wiffle has had."

"Then talk." Percy ordered him firmly. He had no time or sympathy for an emotionally disturbed squeaker with a bad case of loyals.

"Master Lucius beats us sometimes." Wiffle said slowly. "And he sells off the small ones. And he hangs us from the ceiling and brands our feets." He held out a skinny leg to show burn marks and scar tissue on the bottoms of his feet. Percy noted it down without comment. Several of the other elves he'd spoken with had offered this detail already. "Did he ever make you do something you did not want to do?"

"He makes us to dust the dark things." Wiffle's eyes grew wide, and he clasped gnarled fingers over his mouth, before speaking again. "He hides them in the secret room." His voice had sunk to a conspiratorial whisper now."

"Did he ever make you do anything you knew to be wrong?"

"Dark things." Wiffle whispered. "He hides them in the house."

Percy skimmed through the questions about general treatment. Malfoy was a deranged, sadistic menace, and the wizard world knew that. If the kidnapping of Luna Lovegood had not landed him the death penalty, the mistreatment of a few elves wouldn't affect his sentence one whit. The general treatment was not what was important.

"Were there many women in Master Malfoy's house?"

Wiffle's face became wrinkled. "Missy Bella came often in the first days, and in the last. Madam Paisley, Madam Cosima, and Madam Edwina came with her too."

_Paisley Parkinson. Cosima Zabini. Edwina Burke._ Parkinson had been a deranged and loyal follower of Bellatrix Lestrange. She naturally would have had a place in Lucius Malfoy's circle. Cosima Zabini could be easily dismissed, despite her reputation. Italian-born, she had not entered the UK until 1990, and she wouldn't have become prominent with Malfoy until 1995, when she was rumoured to have pledged a substantial amount of gold (and her only son) to the Death Eater cause. Edwina Burke was another matter. Malfoy had always had connections with the Burke family, who had a monopoly on dark arts artifacts and trade. Perhaps, Percy mused, the two had chosen to mix business with pleasure.

"With whom was Lucius Malfoy the most...intimate?" Percy pressed. Most of the other elves had been more loyal to Malfoy than Wiffle. His loyalties, truly, seemed to lie with Andromeda, and as a result, he was giving more information than the rest put together.

Wiffle twisted his hands together. "Master Lucius had many friends." He offered weakly.

"Yes, but you know what I mean." Percy pressed. "Was Master Lucius ever...indiscreet with any females in the house?"

Wiffle stared at the grate in the fireplace. "Master Lucius wanted so bad a son." He whispered sadly.

"Yes. And?" Percy urged, excitement building.

Wiffle looked up at him fearfully at his change in tone. "And Missy Cissy gives him a son, and he is happy!" He cried, a relieved smile breaking onto his face at last, like the sun after a day of empty clouds.

Percy stared down at him, feeling distinctly disappointed, and what's more, lied to. "Wiffle...wait, Wiffle, come back here, we're not finished. Before, you were going to tell me something about how Lucius wanted a son. What was it?"

"Missy Cissy gives him a son." Wiffle repeated, shaking his head adamantly as he put his hands behind his back and backed toward the doorway. "Wiffle says that."

"Wiffle..."

The elf disappeared with a crack, and Percy was left staring at the empty doorway. Damned elf. He added a few more colourful mental descriptions for good measure before dropping his quick-quotes quill and rising.

"Mrs. Tonks?"

She stood from her place at the table.

"He's apparated away, I'm afraid he..."

Andromeda nodded quickly. "They were very hard on all their servants." She was hasty to assert. "The experience was traumatic to say the least, and Wiffle will have been very reluctant to talk about it."

"Yes, ma'am..." Percy scratched his neck. "Pardon me, Ma'am, but...when exactly did you become, er, estranged from your sisters?"

Andromeda's tone grew reserved, that perfect tone that all pureblooded aristocrats seemed born with. Proud, regal, and formal. "I have had no communications with my biological family since my engagement to my husband, surely that should be obvious. I know nothing of their doings from then on, except for what Wiffle has told me."

Percy glanced around, wondering where the elf had gone. He felt like he had half a story. Wiffle had run out on him. "And you would have told of anything illegal?"

"Clearly." Still the icy pureblood tone. She was warm and welcoming when she came to the Burrow for dinner or chats with his mother, but at heart she was a Black still. She could still use _that _tone.

"Er...all right then." He glanced down at his paltry notes. "Well, if Wiffle gives you any new information regarding our interview, I would be appreciative if you would share it with me."

"Certainly."

He gave a polite nod, and she nodded back, moving gracefully to hold the door open for him. "Give your mother my best."

"I shall. I'm sure you'll be seeing her soon."

"Yes. Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley."

"Mrs. Tonks." He stepped back onto the stone path leading up to the cottage and made for the gate. Outside, he started down the road. He needed to think.

Stupid elves.

.

He went back to Malfoy Manor that week, tried again to wring some information from them. His interview before had been very short, and his mind had been on Audrey, and wondering if she was now trapping in some secret room in the manor.

When interviewed, Draco Malfoy remained resilient, stronger yet than his father or his mother. It was easy to tell already who would hold up the family when Lucius returned from his sentence. It was easy to forget when watching him, that the boy was only eighteen. There was a certain hollowness about him which belied his arrogance. Behind the cover of Malfoy pride, the boy was simply scared and wearied. He was weak still, and he knew it, but like a Malfoy, he put on an appearance of strength and power. He was insulted at the idea of his father having a mistress, and unlike his mother, he wasn't timid. Percy took his attitude with no comment. The boy's world was gone. He could hardly know who he was anymore.

More fruitful was his second interview with Narcissa Malfoy. The woman was frail and terrified, the effects of the Dark Lord still clearly visible on her home and her person. She sat still and pale as paper as he asked his questions, and answered them as nobly as she could as her son watched them. She told him convincingly enough that she knew nothing of any mistress of her husbands'. She also reassured him that had there been such a one, a better midwife would have been found than a simple house-elf.

From the Malfoys and the Ministry, Percy got the location of the last of the elves. He knew that he was facing the possibility that he might not find the one house-elf that had brought Audrey from the Manor. But he knew also that as soon as Malfoy got out of Azkaban again, he could have a more complete, more civilised interview with the man. Nothing on earth would induce Percy to go near the prison again for a long time.

One by one, he tracked down and spoke with the former house-elves in the employ of the house of Malfoy. Their stories were long, rambling, pitiful, and ultimately, grammatically disastrous. There was no information to be gleaned from most of them other than that the Malfoys had been fairly negligent masters, only resorting to cruelty in the case of disobedience. Most of the elves, true to their kind, seemed to view any disobedience as the ultimate sin.

The dead elves of the house of Malfoy obviously had no stories to tell. Percy could only glean glimpses from their former comrades of which ones might have been closest to the humans of the house, which ones might have helped to birth an unwanted child.

There was also the former house-elf, Dobby, killed earlier that year. Percy discovered from Granger that Dobby had in his later years begun writing an autobiography. After a few pages of the elf's poorly spelled, third-person scrawl on napkins, Percy tossed it away as hopeless. Granger had informed him enthusiastically that she intended to complete and publish it someday.

No leads. Nothing. He'd come this far to hit yet another wall. Wiffle was his best lead thus far.

Percy gnawed on the tip of his quill.

Wiffle's story wasn't finished. Yet.

.

Audrey licked batter off the spoon and off her fingers as she contemplated Davis' textbooks. She was feeling strangely free after realizing she had no school to prepare for this fall. Her autumn would be one full of work, of results, of tangible attainment of goals...not studying.

Davis glowered down at the books in his lap. "The controversial book that rocked the scientific establishment." He mocked drily. "That sounds _fascinating_."

"Sounds like fun to me." Audrey shrugged.

He glowered at her. "Shut up, you...physicist."

She smirked and held out a second spoon to him. He took it, dropping the book and dipped into the chocolate batter with her. "Audrey." He said through a mouthful of chocolaty gooeyness, "I have no life."

"That's a switch." She observed. "It used to be me that had no life."

He sat down glumly. "I do school all day, and I have no girlfriend to talk to at night. So I do more school."

She hummed sympathetically over the sound of the dishwasher rinse. "But your grades have gone up."

"Grades, schoolwork, is about all I can remember." He said desperately.

"Well..." She traced patterns in the batter bowl with her finger. "Have you thought about getting back with Anna?"

He avoided her eyes. "I don't know."

"You could at least try."

He was silent for a long moment. After a pause which she had thought was meant to end the conversation, he burst out, "Want to know something?"

"What?"

"I didn't mean to break up with her at all."

"Then why did you?"

"I just forgot to call her. She broke up with me because she wanted to know why I hadn't gotten in touch with her, and I said I didn't remember that I was supposed to, and...things just kind of got worse from there." He stared mutely at his hands.

Audrey thought back to Anna, one of her old Uni friends. "Well." She conceded. "She does tend to overreact at times."

"I really didn't remember..." He muttered.

"Then it's no big deal." She said. "Just call her up and explain now that she's cooled down, and-"

"I don't want to."

She stopped as the dishwasher began to churn. "Why ever not?"

"I don't really...like her. I don't think. I don't think I ever did."

"Then why did you go out with her so much? What was with all the phone calls and all the snogging in corners at parties?"

He looked up at her as if the concept were completely foreign. "Audrey..."

Lucy bustled in. "I'm back, love."

"Hi, Mum."

"Hi, Mrs. Bones." Davis chimed, all himself again.

"I bring celery." Lucy handed a long stick of green to Audrey, who pounced on it as Davis looked on with distaste.

"Yuck."

"Yum." Audrey responded as both women bustled in circles around him.

"Should I be helping?" He asked as they bumped into one another putting away groceries.

"No, Davis, stay right where you are." Lucy peered into a bag and then disappeared into the pantry. "I also bought shampoo."

"Glorious." Davis deadpanned as Audrey flipped open the bottle and inhaled.

Lucy stopped and gave him a long look. "Davis, are you all right? You haven't been your characteristic self in some time."

"I'm fine." He responded quickly. "I'm just getting ready for the term...and stuff."

Both women exchanged glances. Audrey gave her mother a look, and Lucy responded in like terms. Davis rolled his eyes.

"Do you want me to leave so you can talk out loud and without raising your eyebrows up to your scalps?"

"No, dear, you stay right there." Lucy said again as she and Audrey finished their eye-to-eye. "Audrey, run these upstairs, will you?"

When Audrey returned, Lucy was seated and setting out dinner in the kitchen. "...Like I said, you can come over any time."

"Thanks, Mrs. Bones. I feel like I already do." He added jestingly. "I'm here more than Audrey is."

"Well Audrey's been a bit busy with..." Lucy glanced mischievously at her daughter. "Her _beau_."

"Mum, he is not a _beau._" Audrey closed the dish cupboard. "I didn't know people even still used that word."

Davis gave her a quick look. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Is that so shocking?" She teased, then swatted him on the arm. "You know, the guy who was working on...er, the..." She fumbled, remembering Percy's explicit instructions never to mention the case to anyone again. "You know what."

He looked blank, but nodded slowly. "Oh...right...I guess."

She skipped over her fumble easily. "Anyways, he took me out for tea again, which was a bit anticlimactic, but...bigger and better things soon. Maybe."

"Give it time." Lucy counseled. "He's probably not used to mixing business with pleasure. I mean, you've seen the poor boy, how often do you think he gets a date?"

Audrey nearly choked on her water at that. Davis snickered. "No the cream of the crop, is he?" He asked.

"Well...not really... not in looks, but I'm not too picky." She conceded.

"What, does he have glasses or something?" Davis asked, toying with his food.

There was a long pause. Audrey looked across at her mother. "Davis, he's the ginger. The ginger bloke with the glasses, Percy Weasley."

"You remember him." Lucy said reasonably.

Davis looked puzzled, then shook his head. "Nope, never met him. Red hair _and _glasses? God, that's got to be awful together."

Audrey wiped her hands on her napkin. "Davis, we spent about an hour with him last week. On that little...stroll through Wiltshire?"

Davis looked up from his dinner as if she were mad. "Wilt...What? What are you talking about, Audrey?"

"Wiltshire!" She bit her tongue even as she referred to the incident. "And he and his brother came along, and...you know, all that happened. On...what, Wednesday?"

Davis shook his head slowly. "Audrey, I was at home on Wednesday, I remember. I was studying."

"Stu..." Audrey echoed, the word trailing incompletely off her lips. Davis' blue eyes were genuinely blank, genuinely confused. He was, for once, in earnest.

There was a long, awkward silence before Lucy struck up a bit too cheerfully on another topic. Both young people played along, and Davis seemed to be fine, but Audrey couldn't quite get her head around it. Either she was mad, or he was.

.

She shut the door after him hours later and turned back to her mother. "He doesn't remember anything we did!" She hissed frantically.

"He's probably just...pretending. He's probably not supposed to talk about it either." Lucy reminded her. "Remember, you said that brother of Percy's took him away, almost arrested him."

"He did..." Audrey pulled back into her memory. _"Off to the Ministry!"_ Weasley had said. And there had been a lot of muttering and whispering going on all during the ride back to London.

Was it possible? Could you...just make someone forget something? Was it some sort of brainwashing trick? But why use it on a simple cold case murder investigation?

The next time she saw Percy, she would ask him. No, she wouldn't, she decided almost at once. She'd find out in her own time. Dad, well Dad was dead, and that was that. But Davis, Davis was living, and if he was hurt in some way...

She moved back to the kitchen. The next time she saw Percy she'd say nothing. She would work around him to get to whatever it was he was hiding. She would let Dad's case rest, but as soon as someone else in her realm of being was touched, she would go straight back to pushing and pressuring him for information, clues, leads. Maybe he'd be nice about it, and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd even be angry with her. Maybe...

Maybe there would be no more going out for tea at the shop.

She paused at that thought, then resolutely went to fetch an ironing board and her clean laundry. Well, maybe there would and maybe there wouldn't, but it would be Percy's fault, not hers. Truth was all she'd ask for.


	17. Evening Out

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. Nor any other various work mentioned herein. Nor am I Drew Barrymore.**

**This chapter is mostly fluff-ish-ness. And updates could get crazy from here on out, even though I'm trying to write ahead. Am I the only one hereabouts participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo)? **

**Chapter 17: Evening Out**

Percy flipped through his papers as he continued filing. The clock ticked and the walls of books around him were looming invitingly, but he was forced to ignore them. Oh, how long had it been since he'd spent a good long night just reading the hours away until dawn.

Something collided with the back of his head, scattering his neat papers. "GEORGE!"

A giggle told him otherwise. "No, it's not George." Penny flopped down onto one of his chairs. "It's me."

He glared at her, picking up the green hospital garment and holding it away from himself. "Penelope, do you have any idea how many viral germs are on this..._thing _which you have just flung at my head?"

"I do. You want to know the exact number?"

"No."

"Didn't think so." She put her feet up comfortably on the table as she summoned a book from a shelf at random. "So. How's Audrey?"

He shrugged.

"Does my overwhelming reason not convince you?"

He pushed up his glasses. "It did, thank you. My mind is convinced, and for your information, we did go out for tea and walk."

"Try something a little more...engaging. Something longer, something more like a date and less like a meeting."

"Such as...?"

The door opened again behind him and Percy let his eyes roll. "Has anyone ever heard of knocking?"

"Sorry, Perce." He didn't have to look, the casually unapologetic voice was Charlie's. His brother sauntered into view and plopped down on the arm of the couch.

"Shouldn't you be with George?"

"Nope, Lee's with him tonight, so I get the night off." Charlie glanced over at Penny, grinned in welcome, and then checked himself. "Oh. Wait...are you two...?" He looked with confusion between the two of them as Penny regarded him calmly. "Er, did I just walk in on something?"

"Nope." Penny flipped a page in the book she was perusing.

"Then what...?" Charlie looked suspiciously at Percy, who glared back, not sure why he was glaring but certain that it was the characteristic thing for him to do. "Er, I thought you two hated each other."

"No, we're over that." Penny waved it off casually.

"Really?"

"Yup. We never really hated each other, right Percy?"

"Right." Percy said tiredly.

Charlie stared at her, obviously unconvinced. "You called him a workaholic turd-faced weasel. And then you threw a book at him. And _then_ you broke his glasses."

Penny's book had slipped a little higher, as she slouched a little more. There was a long moment of silence, broken at last by Percy.

"Hey, you _did _break my glasses!" He remembered suddenly. "I can't believe you did that!"

The book came down and she glared at him. "You stood me up four times in a row for Mr. Crouch." She turned to Charlie as Percy shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Honestly, you think I'd get back with _that_? I'm not so desperate."

Percy let out a loud cough. "So, anyways, what were we talking about?"

"Dating."

"Oh." Percy cast a sidewise glance at Charlie, who was again looking with interest between the two of them.

"Take her to the cinema." Penny suggested, making Charlie's face fall as she roundly returned the topic to Audrey. "It's easy, fun, not too expensive. And you won't have to talk about yourself."

"_Her_? Who's _her_? Is _her_ the girl who spent the night here?"

Percy considered her points as he ignored Charlie, deliberately-accidentally stepping on his foot. "Well...I don't know much about muggle films." He debated. "I mean, there was last time..."

Penny rolled her eyes. "That was four years ago!"

"It was a fiasco."

"Just because you have no taste..."

"Taste!" Percy spluttered. He rounded on Charlie to defend himself. "It was the most atrocious butchering of a literary classic I have ever seen. You know of the Elizabethan stage works of the great muggle bard playwright William Shakespeare?"

"Who?"

"It was a rewrite of his play, _Hamlet, Prince of Denmark_." Percy glared at Penny as he began to warm to his topic. "Except it was set in Africa, and Hamlet was a lion, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were hyenas, and _Horatio_ was a _warthog_!" He expounded as Charlie stared between him and Penny, clearly bemused. "And everyone was _singing._ There were singing giraffes, Charlie! In Kronborg castle!"

"It's called _The Lion King_, and for your information, it's become an instant classic."

"Classic?" Percy seemed horrified as Penny watched his blood rise with a smug grin. "And I thought _our _world was in a bad state..."

"I'll have you know they've made a sequel. It's coming out this year."

Percy was ignoring her. "Giraffes. Singing. _Singing _giraffes."

Charlie was scratching his neck, looking confused, and Penny waved away the idea. "All right, fine. You could take her to see _Ever After_. She'd love that."

"What is it?"

"It's a new film, it's just come out the other day. I went to see it on opening night, and it was so romantic!"

"Well then I'm not seeing it." Percy voted at once.

"Drew Barrymore is in it."

"Who's he?" Charlie asked.

"I mean, is _nothing_ sacred? What's next?" Percy demanded of Penny, cutting across his brother to return to his own topic. "_Henry V_? Or what about Harry Potter himself? Yes, that's just the thing you muggles would do, made a long cinema-film about Harry Potter and make it the worst retelling ever! They'd probably...I don't know, try and make Hermione attractive, or something equally ludicrous. And then take away my glasses and make me look like a fool!"

"That's not nice. Hermione's a lovely girl." Penny started.

"I bet I wouldn't look like a fool." Charlie smirked.

"Yes, because you probably wouldn't be in the story until the very end." Percy crossed his arms, daring Penny to disagree with him.

"I would, too! I'd have to be, I'm a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Charlie pointed empathetically at his arm, where the Order Mark rested, then checked himself and glanced at Penny.

"It's all right, I know." She said calmly, her voice and expression not changing. She cast a half-glare at Percy. "Anyways...I give up on you. Choose your own date."

"No, wait...I need your help." He pleaded.

"And," She interrupted, "On a side note, I am so glad I didn't get back with you when we were staying at the House of Ladislav." She cast another glare at him, this one half-playful.

"All right!" Percy threw his own hands into the air, surrendering before Charlie asked him who Ladislav was and why they'd been in his house. "Fine! I'll take her to see one of your muggle long-moving-pictures."

.

Percy fiddled with his sleeve as Audrey gazed at him, wondering just why he always wore long sleeves like that. It was summer, surely he was hot.

"So." He glanced across at her. "I was, um, wondering what you were doing this weekend."

"Not much..." She ran her hand over the countertop. "I've got a job interview on Thursday, and I'm doing my laundry. So basically I'm free. Why?"

He shrugged. "Well...I was wondering if you wanted to go out together." He could feel the tips of his ears tingeing just the slightest bit and was glad they were hidden behind his hair. Why was it so easy to stand in an elevator with the Minister of Magic, to give well-written reports on complex social issues, to orate on difficult mathematical concepts, yet so hard to talk to another person about ordinary things? Percy supposed it was the lack of plan. No plan, no plot, no format to put his words into. "I mean, just a casual evening out. Maybe for a moo-vee." He tried to imitate his memories of Charlie talking to one of his many past Ravenclaw dates. Or Fred flirting with the shopgirl at Ottery St. Catchpole. It didn't sound as good coming out of his mouth.

She cocked her head and a grin quirked her mouth a little. "I'd love that."

"Great." He could breathe again. Amazing what oxygen could do for the brain.

"So what time?"

Ah, back to familiar ground. Schedules, times, and plans. "About six o'clock?"

"Fine." She agreed.

"Copacetic." He bit back the urge to grin down at her.

.

In the end, Percy thought, Penny had been mostly right about the film idea. He still had a hard time comprehending that muggles did this often, stared at hours-long pictures for entertainment when they could be in a library somewhere, reading. But still. Audrey was there, and that made it more interesting. Before, Penny had never spoken, had always shushed him when the toucan or the hyena started talking. Audrey, on the other hand, would lean over to whisper a comment every now and then, a habit he much preferred. They were talking; but not about magic.

"I'm sorry if I'm talking too much." She whispered once. "It's a bad habit."

"There's almost nobody else here to hear." He pointed out, deliberately leaving her the sweetened spots in their popcorn. "I don't mind." He watched the characters on the screen for a moment more, then glanced back to find her looking at him.

"What?" He asked as she quickly returned her eyes to the screen.

"Nothing."

"What is it?"

"_Nothing_."

"Audrey." He bit his tongue as soon as he used that tone. It was the tone he used with Ginny. Or Penny. Women he knew, and women who knew him. A rather…controlling tone.

She looked back at him at last. "Nice tone."

"Sorry. I have siblings."

"Control freak?"

"A bit." He admitted. Why did people insist upon considering him with that term?

"That's okay." She looked comfortably back at the screen.

A long moment passed before... "Wait, you just changed the topic."

"Hm?" She looked back, feigning surprise.

"Why were you looking at me?"

"Haven't you been looked at before?"

"Well, yes, but you get my gist."

She smiled. "I was just thinking, if you must know."

He let it go, though he was fairly sure she was lying. People didn't just look over at him for no reason at all. For a moment he couldn't help but wonder just what was on her mind, just what was on her agenda. People didn't just go out with him for no reason at all either. He let the figures onscreen roll on for several minutes as he let his mind wander. She was pretty. Very pretty, actually. And smart. And (he was displeased to admit) quite gutsy. When she'd met him today and smiled as they headed for the theatre, he'd realized quite distinctly that she was far, far out of his league.

So, he asked himself rationally, what was she doing here with him? Information? Hm, possibly. If she wanted it, though, she wasn't letting on. She hadn't mentioned her father, his murder, Malfoy, Davis, the incident, anything...yet it was the most plausible guess. He didn't have much else to offer.

He risked a glance over at her. She didn't look evil. Or conniving.

_She's the daughter of bloody Lucius Malfoy and God-knows-who-else! _

And how was she supposed to know that? Why did she have to be evil and conniving simply because they were? You were what you chose to be, Percy reminded himself. He, his family, and the dissimilarities thereof were living proof of that.

But if she had no ulterior motive, what was she doing with him? She couldn't really like him, after all. She couldn't be interested in him. Things like that, or girls like this, didn't happen to Percy Weasley. He was predictable, and sensible, and insensitive, and well, boring.

Well. Maybe not predictable, not to a muggle. Or sensible, either, for that matter. Or boring. But that was only because he was a wizard. If he were normal...He cut off his train of thought. He wasn't normal, he wasn't that, and he was going to stay that way. So the question remained, what was in her head to make her come with him? She'd seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, seemed not to be thinking of investigating on her own again...

She was like another investigation all her own, with the same questions going in circles. What motive did she have?

_You._

He blinked and discarded the thought. It sounded like the voice of Penny, Ginny, Bill, and his friend Gavin all swaddled into one. Well, yes, there was the other possible option that she was interested in him, but logically, the odds of that were small enough to be negligible.

_But logic doesn't work that way_, his four-part inner conscience told him. _You're allowing your opinion of yourself to influence logical deduction. Leaving apart personal ideals...really. What are the odds? _

He bit back the urge to glower in any direction to hush his conscience up. Fine. Audrey was either interested in her father's case, or in him. He'd see which soon enough. In the meantime...

The show ended and he gratefully rose with her as they started down the aisle of the theater. Staring at the screen did strange things to his sight, he thought as he followed her down the stairs. She paused at the bottom and turned to wait for him. "Ready?" She asked as he threw away their popcorn.

"Ready." He slipped his hand behind her elbow and guided her out. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed for a moment like she was leaning into his touch.

.

Audrey glanced down at her hand. It had been tucked into his arm for about five minutes now, ever since they'd had to sprint across the street to keep from being rained on. After leaving the cinema, they'd been forced to take refuge from the rain in a department store.

"Ever been in here?" She asked him.

He shook his head, still looking around curiously, taking turns at random. "No. I've never been in a store this big." They slowed near the electronics department, full of the latest radios, televisions, and VCRs. Percy glanced over the assorted gadgets, looking almost perplexed.

"Everything in your wor—where you live is bigger." He half-told her. "We don't have stores this big where I come from. Everything comes separately, in separate shops. Not everything in one place."

"You're from Devon, it can't be that different." She teased. "You make it sound like you're from a whole different continent."

"You'd be surprised." He told her drily. "Ever been to Devon?"

"No."

"Exactly. Especially not _my_ part of Devon."

She glanced up at him. He was taller than he looked at first glance, now that she was standing so close to him. "Is your whole family tall?" She asked, aware the question was a bit off-topic, but wondering all the same about his family. He hadn't spoken of them much aside from the one time he'd shown her that picture.

"No." He responded promptly, then seemed to swell a little with pride. "I matched Charlie on the height chart when he was nine. Our mother is short, and he gets it from her."

"Charlie...he is a bit short, isn't he?" She mused "I only met him for a moment, and you haven't talked much about him."

"We're not close. I mean, not really close." Percy corrected himself. "Though I'll warrant," He added a little aside, "That we've been through a few things the average siblings haven't. We are close I suppose by normal standards."

"What does he do? Your whole family is in government, yes?"

"Yes." He reached up and scratched his neck uncomfortably, a movement she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been pretending she wasn't watching him carefully. "He does various things, mostly security work, it's all quite boring."

_He knows Malfoy well_? The question was on the tip of her tongue, and she'd been longing to ask it ever since the night at the Malfoy residence. Charlie had said bluntly that he and Malfoy knew one another. The three had been downright hostile to one another. It was plain even to her: the Malfoys and the Weasleys each knew the other, and didn't think much of each other. But she couldn't ask now, couldn't risk getting him mad. It was easy to plan on nudging information out of him when he was away, but now that they were here, she didn't quite want to chance it. She hadn't had a good date in a long time. Since secondary school, actually. Always too focused on schoolwork and success to have fun...

She tugged her rambling thoughts back to the moment as they passed a window display. "The rain's stopped."

He glanced out the window. "So it has." Casting a glance down at her, he inquired, "Do you want me to take you home, or can I get dinner?"

"Dinner." She said at once. "And you don't have to pay."

"I do." They crossed the street again toward an unfamiliar eatery. "This time."

.

"All right, I've got it. Worst teacher ever."

Percy thought a moment as he chewed. "Sna...No." He seemed to discard his idea. "Quirrell...no. Binns, Grubbly-plank, Lupin. Maybe Trelawney..." Finished with his bite, he gnawed on his lip. "Difficult to say, I've had a lot of horrible professors. I think...No, I know! Lockhart! I had a Professor Lockhart in my sixth year, and he was an _idiot_. I hated him. I always have. He was a thousand times worse than Trelawney."

"What did he teach?" She asked, grinning at his disdain. "And how long did he last?"

"Less than a year, and that's not fair, it's my turn."

"All right."

"_Your_ worst professor ever."

"Dr. Swarbrick." She said after a moment. "I've had a lot of good professors, but he was just mean. Horrible teacher. If I hadn't switched courses I would have failed algebra that year."

He looked horrified at the prospect as she thought of her next question.

"_Best_ teacher eve

"Er..." He glanced down at his paper napkin. "I'll tell you if you promise to tell no one else."

"All right. But you have to tell the truth, that's the rule."

"Professor..." He gathered a deep breath and blurted it out. "Professor Snape." After a moment in which she didn't react, he seemed to relax a little.

"So who was he, what did he teach, why did you like him and why don't you want anyone to know?" She prodded, wondering if she was supposed to give a more dramatic response. She felt like he'd given her some sort of stage cue, and was waiting for her to faint, or gasp...or something.

Her fiddled with his fork. "Well. He was a genius. A really brilliant man, his essays are...a scintillating read."

"_Scintillating?_"

"Yes. He wasn't always...er, a very good professor. He was disgraced, and kind of fired, and...it's complicated. But in spite of his politics or his views, he did have an ineffably intellectual mind."

"You know people don't use words like scintillating and ineffable to describe other people?"

"Maybe not where _you_ live." He gave her a look.

"All right, all right. Why'd he get fired?"

"My turn to ask a question."

"No, it isn't, because you wouldn't tell me what your Mr. Lockhart taught and you thought I didn't notice how you ducked the question. It's still my turn."

Percy swallowed some of his tea. "He murdered the headmaster." His tone was flat and straightforward.

Audrey gazed at him across the table. He looked away for a long moment, then looked back at her.

"You know," She said slowly, not sure how he would take it, "You have a pretty interesting life."

He snorted. "Define interesting, please."

"You just...seem different. From other people. And I think you know it." She commented, and then hastened to add, "I mean, not that that's a bad thing."

"I'm not sure about that." He murmured indistinctly, then pushed up his glasses and changed tone completely.

"What's the most hours you've ever spent on an academic project?"

.

He left her at the door that night, and she almost wished she could watch him walk away. It was odd how he didn't have a car, and yet was so uneducated in the ways of public transportation. Yes, he was definitely…odd.

But there had to be a reason for it all. A few inconsistencies could be dismissed as eccentricity, but as many as Percy had gathered, paired with the odd events at Malfoy Estates, amounted so some deep down reason for all things.

She rested against the door for a moment before starting for the door. Her only regret about the evening was that at the end of it, he hadn't kissed her again.


	18. Turning Points

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. **

**Thank you all for all the lovely reviews!**

**Chapter 18: Turning Points**

The door swung open, and the first thing to be seen in his apartment was the empty bottle on the floor.

Percy sighed, put down his groceries, and went to the bedroom.

George had come prepared. He had another bottle in his hand, and several more untouched ones stood nearby, waiting attentively to be devoured.

"George..."

"Peeerrrcyeey." George slurred. "I cammmme...a say hello."

"Well, hello." Percy deadpanned, his sarcasm going past his brother as he helped George to his feet. He'd heard that one's personality when drunk was always the opposite of when sober. That was certainly the case for George-his usual alert cheeriness had disintegrated into a sluggish, staggering emptiness. As he supported George and led him to the bathroom, he sincerely hoped he never found out what he was like when drunk. Although, he had to admit, it wasn't only the beer that had changed George's personality.

"Here you go." He found himself crooning as if to a baby. A moment later George's head was shoved into the shower and doused in cold water. Above his splutterings, Percy heard a loud knock on the door.

"When it rains, it pours." He growled in his throat, leaving George to flail as he slowly woke. Scooping up two butterbeer bottles, he started for the door, hoping George didn't decide to try and hang himself with the shower curtain while he was gone.

He took down the spells and wards and opened the door to find his landlady.

"Mrs. Mayberry." He forced a smile.

"Mr. Weasley." She was angry, her wrinkling eyebrows knitted together. "This is not a pub. I cannot have strange men of nondescript appearance wandering into my establishment, reeking of alcohol, and slurring together swearwords of which I have never heard the like! My other tenants were shocked at his appearance. And you, always such a good tenant!"

Percy stared down at her, unable to find words for a response, as her eyes drifted past his rumpled shirt to the two bottles in his hand, and she gasped in disapproval.

"Mrs. Mayberry." He tried to regain her attention. "I am so sorry. My...half-brother is mentally disturbed and badly in need of medical care."

Mrs. Mayberry's face relented to allow a little pity.

"Yes." Another voice piped up as a second figure rushed to Mrs. Mayberry's elbow. "He is. Mr. Weasley? I'm your half-brother's nurse, Lucilla Van Slop." Percy bit back a groan as Angelina Johnson edged past him gracefully and into the apartment. "How is your brother? Has he taken his medication?"

"Um...no." He was aware immediately that the girl had a good deal of experience on him in the department of lying and play-acting.

"Oh, my! I'll have to get him his tonic before he has another seizure and loses control. I'm so glad he came here, where we can keep him contained." Oozing medical concern, Angelina grabbed one bottle from his hand and disappeared into the apartment.

_Brilliant_.

He gave a half-smile at Mrs. Mayberry, who looked properly ashamed now.

"I'm so sorry." She murmured, glancing away, and he was made aware suddenly of the other faces peeking out of doors up and down the hall. Morgeuse's slippers, George must have made one hell of a scene. What had he done? But Mayberry was still talking. "I didn't know. I just hope the incident won't be repeated." She said stiffly, distinctly embarrassed.

"Yes." He said, hoping she would go away so he could go and check on the two mourners camped in his bathroom.

She leaned closer, her eyes taking on a conspiratorial glint. "I wouldn't have come at all, you know, but Mr. Gastapalos was very upset because he apparently said something to his daughter. But I trusted you. You've always been a good tenant."

"Well, thank you, ma'am." He glanced back as a loud thump came from within the apartment. "I really have to go." He shut the door. If only she knew all the things he'd done in and to her building, she wouldn't have trusted him quite so much. Oh, well. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and he and Gavin had had some fun knocking chunks out of the boiler room walls.

He pushed into the bedroom. George was sitting dully drunk, just balanced on the edge of the bed as Angelina sobbed at him. For a moment, Percy stood and watched her screech, her calm outside persona now gone, before touching her on the shoulder.

"What?" She snapped, pushing him away. "Can't you see we're talking? Can't you see..."

"I can. He can't." He told her. "Scream at him tomorrow, but he won't remember a thing you say tonight."

She buried her face in her hands. Obviously the fight was not new.

He pushed down a pang of sympathy at her helplessness, let her cry and reached for George. It was the most practical and effective action he could think of to do. "Come on, George, let's go to bed." He tried to get his brother into a sleeping position. This time, George was compliant, and allowed himself to be tucked in. After a moment, Percy heard Angelina's robes rustle as she stepped forward and helped pull the covers over George.

"Um..." He knew what to do with George. Take away his beer and keep him quiet. Feed him. It was as basic as taking care of a baby, putting aside the fact that babies didn't drink beer. With Angelina, he had no idea what to do. He didn't even know _what_ she was properly. She'd been Fred's girl, hadn't she? Was she George's now, or Lee's? _Or perhaps she's still Fred's_, he mused.

"Can I stay?" She asked him tearfully, a hiccup in her voice.

"Sure." He said, wishing she wouldn't, but knowing that sometimes there was just no getting rid of women. This was going to be one of those times for George (well, for _him_) and Angelina.

"Thanks." She shuffled into the main room, and he couldn't be sure suddenly just how sober she was.

"Purceeee?" The voice was muffled.

He turned back. "Yes, George?"

"Can you schweep in here toonite?"

"All right." Percy came back and filched a pillow from his bed, tossing it on the floor. "I'm here."

He shut his eyes. Tomorrow he had to work. Today he had had a date. And he was already wishing he could go back to see Audrey again.

_Should've kissed her,_ he thought as he rolled over on the floor. It wouldn't have made any of the rest of the night go away, but all the same_. I should have kissed her_.

.

He dreamt only fitfully for hours, at long last delving into long sleep. He woke the next morning to find George gone. Annoyed, he pushed himself off of the floor and hurried into the main room.

George was stretched out on the couch, with Angelina Johnson next to him, their arms wrapped around each other. Both were sound asleep, and looked to be in serious danger of falling off the cushions. Less than a meter away, Charlie and Lee were sitting watching them.

"When did my apartment become a sanctuary for congregation?" He growled.

Lee had his arms wrapped around his knees, and was rocking from side to side, eyes fixed on the pair on the sofa. Charlie glanced up at Percy and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"I don't dare hope yet, but I think we hit a turning point last night." He said calmly. His calm tone expressed an absolute resignation with the situation that Percy hated. Resignation to _this_ as normal. He'd been smoking, his voice had gotten all gravelly.

Rolling his own eyes, Percy headed for the shower. He let the steam roll over him and the water darken his hair as he stood beneath it.

A turning point, Charlie had said? As in, _change_? He hadn't been aware things would change. It seemed like ten years since he'd looked on Hogwarts, flaming and crumbling at the edges. And since then every day had been a repeat of the one before. He'd begun to take for granted that George would always be drunk and sorrowful, Fred would always be gone, he would always have nightmares, Bill would always be scarred, his mother would always be in grief, the Ministry would always be in turmoil, and nothing would change.

But no, he realised, he had to recognise that he had changed since the end. It was with some shock that it occurred to him that he had only met Audrey last month. And before then, there had been no Audrey or Lucy. It was odd, but it was difficult to think of himself before them. So some things had changed. He'd been more cynical then. Less sure. Less confident. It had been the age of fear, the days of a slow and steady fight. Since the War had ended, he'd taken more refuge from its aftermath with Audrey than his own family, even if he had only met her in July. _I suppose that's a standing testament to the true failure of my relationship with my family_, he thought a bit bitterly as he stepped out to dry himself.

Things had changed, he admitted. Since Audrey, he'd experienced companionship, happiness, conversation, genuine concern from her and her mother. Things his family didn't have time to give. And he had no one else to receive from.

He shaved and dressed and came out for breakfast to find Charlie burning bread and scorching eggs on the muggle stove with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Put that thing out." Percy took it from him and pinched it out, burning his fingers in the process.

Charlie nudged him and nodded toward the living area. Percy glanced back to find Lee, Angelina, and George with their heads together over the coffeetable, papers spread out in front of them.

Performing a soothing charm on his burnt finger, Percy gave his brother a quizzical look.

"They're planning new products for the Wheezes." Charlie murmured to him. "I don't know what Angelina said to him while they were fighting last night, but it really set him off. He woke up and said he wants to reopen Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on April Fool's Day and make it a big extravaganza."

Percy bit his tongue and gave back the cigarette.

.

Percy waited for Wiffle to be brought in again. He'd scheduled another appointment with Mrs. Tonks and her elf at once, and this time he wasn't about to leave without getting the answers he wanted.

Mrs. Tonks swept in and stopped at the doorway. Percy felt his stomach sinking a little as she sat across from him with no sign of Wiffle. Surely she wasn't so utterly dense that she would keep him from talking to the elf. He was only an elf...

"I'm sorry. Wiffle is very distraught." She told him, and bit back the urge to glare at the older woman. She really wasn't going to let him see Wiffle. Endor's eyebrows, there was a dead man in the ground, and a killer/birth mother on the loose, and she...This was Ministry business. He could _force_ her to bring Wiffle out to him. He had every right. For that matter, he could just tell her to sit there and go find Wiffle himself. Forget her. She was the daughter of Death Eaters, no doubt...

"But I think there are a few things you would like to know." She interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back into the room.

"Yes ma'am." He responded slowly.

"Wiffle said you asked about Lucius Malfoy, and his...personal affairs." He said carefully.

"I did. Do you have any additional information regarding Mr. Malfoy?"

She shook her head. "But Wiffle has told me some things...That lead me to assume some things. I...I don't have definite evidence, but as things have gotten back to normal, I've tried to put things together." She stopped to collect her thoughts. "Bella's death made me think again about how things were, how it was for her and Cissy. I've gathered some information from Wiffle about his own experiences and the gossip from the rest of the elves."

"What is it, Ma'am?" He asked, straight and to the point.

She gathered her breath. "I don't know what it is that you are looking for. But knowing Lucius Malfoy as I did, I think he may have been having an extramarital affair."

No surprise. "Do you have anything else?" She had better know more...

Andromeda chewed her lip. "Lucius Malfoy was close to my age, and I remember, he was always obsessed with the idea of pureblood supremacy. He was downright rude to Ted at school, and he tried to 'befriend me' and give me advice on how to be '_successful'_." She put air-quotes around the word. "Not because he really cared at all, but simply because he didn't want to marry a woman whose family was sullied by a dishonourable sister. But as you know, things went another way." She shook her head to dismiss the thought. "Narcissa was never as harsh on the topic as he, she just loved...well, God knows what she loved in him, but she didn't care as much about blood or heirs. Only about him. That was her downfall, I'm afraid."

"Once when Nymphadora was young, just an infant, I took her to Diagon Alley, for some shopping. I met Narcissa there. She was...terrified. She was always easily frightened, but just this once, when no one was around, we spoke for a few minutes. She seemed desperate, and she asked me about what to do with a newborn baby."

Percy's jaw twitched as he wrote it all down. "Do you have a date for all of this?"

"Um, it was autumn. Around Hallowe'en. 1976, I think."

"And what happened?"

"Well, a long story short, she acted as if she were pregnant. She asked me about what to do, whether it was hard to take care of a newborn. She asked me how hard it was to keep one quiet. She also asked me if it was possible to change a child's appearance to make them look like someone else. But," She hastily added, seeing he was about to ask a question, "Cissy _wasn't _pregnant. I asked her, and she said no. She's a good liar, but she's weak around some people; Bella and I could see right through her."

"And...?"

"And that was how it sat until I got Wiffle back." She ran a hand over her hair, her prim appearance and surroundings belying the turmoil that was all of their past. "I asked him about how it had been. He was willing to tell me, of course. He said that Narcissa hadn't been pregnant. When I pressed him, he admitted that Lucius had had an affair. Not a mistress, and I don't think it was likely a long thing. Merlin knows it was probably more her idea than his. She was always jealous of Cissy..."

"Ma'am." Percy pulled her back on topic. _Spit it out_, he silently urged. Surely _she _had a name.

"Wiffle said that Narcissa helped deliver a baby, and then told him to get rid of it."

"Who was the mother, did Wiffle know?"

"Wiffle didn't know that the child was Lucius'." Andromeda said, still prim and yet subtly evading having to answer his direct questions as he stared fixedly at her. "I don't think even Narcissa would have guessed something like that. He said that the mother was Bella."

_Bella?_

"My sister Bellatrix. Bellatrix Lestrange."

_Bellatrix_...

Percy felt a hard knot form in his throat. It tasted like vomit.

Andromeda leaned forward. "I never told anyone. The child wasn't the first victim of Bella's, and not the last." She was staring at him oddly, not sure how to read his silence.

He stared at his papers, nodding politely."Yes, Ma'am." _Shit_. A thousand more descriptive, more adult words were flying around his head, bouncing off the walls of his brain like snitches gone amok. _Filthy little...The monster...How...? _

Well, it explained Audrey's determined personality, that was for sure. And the hair. He raised his eyes involuntarily to the black-haired woman across from him. This was Audrey's aunt. This was Audrey's only living relative...well, sort of.

Oh, God. She wasn't only Draco's half-sister-never-met, but his _cousin _now, too. He shut his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose, upsetting his glasses. This could not be. It was the wrong woman. A man like Lucius Malfoy had to have more than one mistress. Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't the one. No, no, no. He'd prove this one wrong.

Mrs. Tonks was staring at him, trying to read his expression. "That's what you were looking for?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Yes ma'am." He quickly scribbled it all down. "And um, did Wiffle say when this was?"

"No, no exact date that he mentioned. Probably early in 1977."

"Was the child male or female?"

"Female."

_Shit. _

"How exactly was the child got rid of?"

"I...I don't know. Wiffle said he left it somewhere. It must have died of neglect shortly afterwards." She shrugged and looked at him curiously. "Has the body been found?"

He shut his eyes and murmured something in response. Somehow or other he managed to politely dismiss himself and get out of there. No, no, no. This was wrong. Clarity broke through and he faced her again. "I need to speak to Wiffle. Now."

"I'm afraid you can't..."

"Mrs. Tonks, I'm a representative of the Ministry of Magic, and I am _ordering_ you to summon your house-elf."

There was a pause as each stared the other down, mouths set. At last, she gave him one long look of disapproval before turning to call Wiffle.

.

Percy pushed through the doors of the Hall of Records, Wiffle's testimony clutched in his hand. He'd find a loophole somewhere. He'd find a problem, come up with an issue. He'd find the whereabouts of Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange on that night. He'd find James and Carol, the other two workers present on the night that Audrey had been found. Surely some details were out of place.

_Oh, yes, when it rains, it does pour_. One good thing,_ one_ good thing from his family_ once_, and the only other good thing, Audrey, had to be ruined. Gone. Things couldn't just get _better_, could they? One thing or the other, his life was never going to be whole again, he snorted bitterly to himself.

Only one persistent thought was pulsing through his brain: That Audrey was not the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. Not. Couldn't be.

Bellatrix Lestrange would have killed any squib child of hers. Such a disgrace on her own name would have been blotted out and burned, not stashed in some far-off bakery to be found later. Lestrange didn't have so much mercy. And Narcissa? Wouldn't she, too, have been eager to kill a child that proved both her husband's unfaithfulness and her own insufficiency? Wasn't Bellatrix rumoured to be manically devoted to the Dark Lord himself?

He ran a hand through his hair as he thumbed desperately through paper after paper.

If Audrey were Lestrange's daughter...She'd be half a Black, half a Malfoy, both the half-sister and the cousin of Draco Malfoy. Somehow the double relationship made his view of the situation so much worse. Not to mention, Lestrange had been killed by his own mother...How would she take to finding out all this?

On the other hand...How would Mother take to this?

_Molly Weasley can be very dangerous when you cross her_. Hadn't he said that very sentence to Audrey?

Oh, Agrippa's nylons, this _wasn't _good.


	19. Nearing the End

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. **

**I read my reviews, and apparently only one other person here is participating in National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo). Nanowrimo is a challenge held amongst writers each November to try and write a 50000 word novel in 30 days (that's about 1400 words a day; the equivalent of a short oneshot). I have to say that I've done it, and if you're into writing at all (as most of us hereabouts are), I seriously recommend that you all do it some year, because it's fun and you'll learn a lot. The website is at —seriously, check it out. It doesn't start for a few more days.**

**And to add to that long advertisement, I have to say that I will be attempting it, so this story may get a bit neglected toward the end of November. I will do my best to keep up, but...well, I may not. End of A/N. **

**Chapter 19: Nearing the End**

Percy sat with his hands clasped, his face stoic.

Macdougal flipped through several of the files, shaking his head slowly.

"My Godric." He muttered. "Well, Weasley, I think you're justified in taking so long to verify all this. This is Skeeter fodder."

Percy raised his eyebrows with displeasure as his Department Head examined his work one last time. After some time, Macdougal raised his head to meet the eyes of his red-haired employee.

"I took a night to look over all of this, and it checks out. You've been quite thorough. I'm going to close this case and put it away, and I mean _away_."

Percy nodded understandingly.

"I'll appeal to keep this case confidential from the general public, both for your sake, to avoid publicity, and for the sake of the young woman. Have you told her?"

"No, sir. She knows nothing of the Wizard world other than mentioned in my report. I wanted your authorization before I told all."

"Don't." Macdougal told him. "Give her the departmental, custom reply. Until I get authorization from my superiors, we aren't bringing her into all this."

"Yes, sir." Percy's stomach was below the soles of his feet, but his responses were clear and firm. At long last, the two men rose and shook hands.

"You've done good work, Weasley. Nothing less than expected. I want to you to take a few days off while we relocate you to another department, I believe there's been a request for you elsewhere that I've been stalling off."

"Thank you, sir." Percy went through the motions, turned and exited, leaving behind the department. He didn't want a few days off. He wanted something to fill his time with other than the awareness that his...sort-of girlfriend was the daughter of a notorious killer. Not only that, but people knew it. Shacklebolt would know it, and even though he would probably keep it under wraps, there would be record. There would be proof, verification, dug up by himself, Percy Weasley. He'd been loath to turn his report in to Macdougal, half-tempted to just mark the whole mess down as a muggle-killing after go on pretending everything was all right. To just go back to Audrey and tell her that Malfoy had done it, go back to the ministry and say it was a cold case. Just pretend, no one would know better.

But that wouldn't be truthful. And truth, he had to remind himself, was the most important thing. The reality, the bottom line, was what was important. His feelings about the matter were irrelevant.

The story had to be told.

But by Gandalf's nosehairs, it had hurt to turn that report in.

.

_1977_

_"Push, Bella, push!" Narcissa urged her sister. What Bellatrix was enduring, she had no idea, but it was hard for her to watch. _

_At long last, the child was born. Narcissa grabbed it and whisked it away, laying it down on the nearby table she had made ready. _

_"Give it to me." _

_"Bella, it's not cleaned yet." Narcissa said. _

_"I don't care." In spite of her pain, Bellatrix pushed herself into a sitting position and fixed her eyes on the deplorable shape. "Give it here or kill it yourself."_

_Narcissa turned back to her, staring. "Bella...Kill it?" _

_"Do it!" Bellatrix said. "Or I'll do it."_

_"No! Bella, a baby!" _

_Bella's lips tightened and her dark eyes flashed in a way Narcissa knew well. _

_Stubbornly, Narcissa turned back and looked down at the child, determined to bathe and wash the child, wrap it and place it in a cradle. Her face changed as she looked down at the child, and her breathing altered slightly. "It looks...like Lucius." _

_Behind her, Bellatrix grinned. _

_Narcissa turned to face her again. Her face was hard now. _

_"So kill it." Bellatrix said quietly. "You don't want word getting around you can't keep your own husband." _

_Narcissa's pretty face was like stone. She quietly turned around and picked up the scissors she had laid out. _

_Bellatrix laid back, assured. _

_"I'm going to cut the umbilical cord." Narcissa said quietly. _

_Bella sat up again. "No!" Forcing herself out of bed, she staggered across the room toward her child. _

_"Bella!" Narcissa caught up the child against her breast and turned to flee. _

_"Cissy!" _

_Narcissa was too fast. Weakened, Bellatrix lunged for the door only to have it slammed in her face. She pounded against it feebly, rallied her strength and grasped her sister's deserted wand from the table. With one curse, she blew down the door and shoved it aside, chasing after her retreating sister with all the strength she had left. _

_Narcissa was halfway down the grand staircase already. _

_"Wiffle!" _

_"Yes, Missy Bella?" The stupid animal was at her side already. _

_"Kill that baby." Bellatrix pointed. _

_"No!" Narcissa shouted. She was at the bottom of the stairs. Bellatrix came to a stop halfway down, leaning with all her strength on the marble balustrade. _

_"I'm going to get rid of it!" Bellatrix snapped. "All the potions, and all the poisons, and all the pills wouldn't get rid of it, Narcissa, now you've kept this secret and done as I said so far, you'll do as I say again!"_

_"Bella, you're bleeding on the staircase." Her sister ignored her. _

_"Kill it, you filthy thing, or I'll kill you!" Bellatrix brandished Narcissa's wand at the frightened elf. _

_"Don't!" Narcissa cried, still cradling the child. "Wiffle, I forbid you!" _

_Wiffle looked from one to the other. "Missy Bella says I must, and Missy Cissy says I cannot! What does poor Wiffle do?" he tore at his large ears in frustration. _

_"Bella." Narcissa whimpered, ignoring the distressed creature at her feet. "Let me take it away. No one will ever know. You can get rid of it, but don't kill it." _

_Bella's lips tightened again, her face exuding strength even as she swayed where she stood. "Fine. But it never comes back." She eyed the bundle in Narcissa's arms with disdain. "Go." _

_Narcissa thrust the child into Wiffle's small arms. "Go." She murmured. _

_._

_Wiffle landed on a back alley in London, looking down at the naked child in his arms. The infant had fallen silent. He scurried down the street. "Wiffle will keep Missy Baby safe." He said to it. There was a large trash bin to his left. He climbed precariously to top it and looked down inside. "Trash bins are always warm." He growled as comfortingly as he could. "Missy Baby will be warm here." _

_Then he paused. A wisp of garbage passed his nose, and he dropped the lid on his head. "Missy Baby will not like that smell." He whispered. Hopping down, he slithered through a door and into one of the nearby buildings. People walked about hastily, talked loudly, splashed water. He smelt something good that he knew was fresh bread and went into a quiet little empty room at the back. Across the room he sighted the oven. _

_"Missy Baby will be safe here." He said. "And warm." He crossed the room and pulled open an empty oven and began to deposit the child there until he was met with pause. "But Missy Baby will be found." He looked down at the child. "Wiffle will find someplace else. Missy Baby must not be found, says Missy Bella." He espied a basket across the room, full of linen. _

_Satisfied, he set the child down there and carefully tucked it in with clean white napkins. "Missy Baby will be safe here." He murmured over it with all the sweetness he could muster. "Good-bye, Missy Baby." He stepped away, watching the child with his large watery eyes, before apparating away with a barely audible pop. _

_Moments later, the sous chef stuck his head inside the room, swearing he heard something there. Like a slight popping noise. _

_"What is it?" One of the dishwashers wheeled inside to put away steaming baking pans. _

_"Nothing, I could have sworn..."_

_The dishwasher knelt to put muffin pans away. Her eye was caught by something red. _

_"Oh my..." She shook her head. "Oh, come on! Who put dirty napkins in the clean basket?" She reached over and pulled off the topmost napkin, then fell back with a start. "Michael!" _

_"What?" He crossed the room to stare down at the ruined linens, and the bundle in their midst. "Get James!" He snapped instantly. He scooped up the child instantly, sticky and slimy, and laid it on the clean table, carefully checking its breathing and heartbeat..._

.

Audrey stared at the telephone, waiting...waiting...waiting.

She was never going to get a job.

"They'll call." Lucy advised, finding her sitting with a book open before her.

"They haven't called yet."

"They said it would be a few days before they decided, Love." Her mother reminded her, pulling the book away. "You study too much, and you think too much sometimes. You worry too much."

"I need something to do." Audrey eyed the book. "I can't focus on reading, I haven't got a job yet, all my friends are cramming for Uni, and Dad..."

"Is still dead." Her mother told her bluntly. "Percy's working on it, you know that."

"I know." Audrey reached out and pulled close to her again. "I just need something to fill my time." At the back of her mind was the unpleasant niggling thought that from the start, Percy had made it clear he couldn't or wouldn't tell them everything. It had seemed over the last few days as if he were growing increasingly close to a finish, and the realization resurfaced that she still might not know quite what she'd hoped to know.

But hadn't they come so far? From the days when she envisioned a dark-complexioned thugger hiding in the shadows as the one, the killer. He hadn't had a face or a name, then, just an elusive, creepish devil that lurked around in her mind. Now she had names. She had a motive. She had learnt much more than she'd expected to...She rested her head in her palm as she pretended to read. She had Percy, now, too, and he was a whole other mystery.

She ignored her book as she wondered again what on earth was going on behind these scenes she was slipping through. What was hidden in Malfoy Manor? What had her parents been that was so terrible? For that matter, what was _she_ that was so terrible they'd tried to destroy her, and then ended up killing her father?

The clock struck six unexpectedly, and she glanced up to find she'd wasted many hours and not turned a page. Standing, she'd made it up the first two stairs to her bedroom before the door opened and Davis barrelled in exuberantly. "Audie!"

She stopped, resigned herself, and turned to come back down. "Davis."

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"I've got a date!"

She gave him a look. "You came all the way here and burst in without knocking to tell me this a week after you broke up with one of my friends?"

He dropped his arms. "No, I came because your Mum said you were pooping out and needed some company, and she told me a long time ago that I didn't have to knock anymore, and I could come over and in anytime. And, this is really exciting, because this girl is..."

"Attractive?"

"Well, yes, that, but what I was really going to say is different. She's way out of my league, but I think she seriously likes me. I mean, she's not just pretty, she's..._really_ pretty!"

"Don't be so cheap." She fussed as he tossed an arm over her shoulders and walked her back to the living room.

"No, but she's smart, too. And funny. And since you've unofficially become my best girl friend, I want you two to meet. I think you'd like each other. You remind me of each other."

"Fine, fine. What's her—"

Oh, and I also ran up here for another reason." He turned to face her.

"What's that?"

"Some guy is sitting across the street staring at your house."

"What?" She darted for the front window. "Did he see you?"

"Well, yeah, I had to walk in, didn't I?"

She peered out the lace curtain and saw...Percy. "Davis, that's..." She stopped as she remembered that of course, Davis didn't remember Percy, for whatever reason. He wouldn't know. "That's no one. He's a friend."

"Is that why he's coming over here?" Davis peered out behind and watched as Percy approached the house.

"Yes." She ran a hand over her face and kicked herself when she realized she wasn't wearing any makeup. "Stall him, I'm going to go put some clothes on."

"Um...okay." She darted up the stairs and turned into her room. She had to get down before the two of them met. She wanted to see if Percy had forgotten Davis, or would pretend to have forgotten Davis, just as Davis had forgotten him. Pulling a shirt on over her camisole as she trotted back down the stairs, she landed at the bottom just as Davis opened the door.

"Hi."

"Oh...Hello." Distinct awkwardness. Audrey slipped up behind Davis and swatted him out of the way.

"Hi, Percy." She smiled in welcome and gestured him to come in. "Come on in, I'm surprised to see you."

"You are?" He asked. "Your mother invited me over. So we could...talk." His eyes flicked to Davis, and she understood the insinuation. _Get rid of Davis, we have business to discuss_.

"Oh." Her mother had invited Percy and Davis over? At the same time? And...hadn't told her?

Davis coughed a little.

"Oh." She suddenly felt terribly awkward standing between the two men. "Um, Davis, this is Percy. He's..."

"Her boyfriend." Percy inserted. Whether it was because he was feeling territorial, or because he didn't want her saying he was a detective, she wasn't sure. She suspected the latter, but didn't comment. They'd never really made it clear they were on boyfriend terms, though she'd hoped that was where he was going with all this. "Um, yes, and Percy, this is Davis."

"Hi." The two shook hands.

_This is ridiculous_, Audrey thought. Percy clearly remembered Davis. Clearly, they didn't need to be introduced again. Yet clearly, he wasn't surprised that Davis didn't know him. He knew, _he knew_, whatever had mangled with Davis' memories, Percy knew of it.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd like a word with the ladies." Percy said, all stiffness and business, none of the banter and intelligence she'd actually gotten used to.

Davis glanced between them as Audrey wordlessly took his arm and led him back to the door. "Oh, um, okay..." he glanced at Audrey as she gestured for Percy to go on. "Good meeting you, too..." He muttered once they were alone.

"Look, Davis, this is just something that I need to work out with him."

"Him? You're dating that guy? He's a stiff! Stiff as in, in-the-coffin stiff!"

"We're not dating, we're..." She glanced the way Percy had gone, "I don't know what we are."

"But you like him?"

"I do. I _more_ than like him. Now, please. I'm sorry how this worked out, I guess my mother simply forgot she was having you both over. But, I'm very happy for you that you've got a girl, and I suggest you find her and call her up for a date tonight."

"Which is a nice way of getting rid of me." He responded teasingly as he reached for the doorknob, taking the hint gracefully.

"Yes." She admitted as he left. "Good luck with your girl."

"Good luck with your guy."

"Thanks."

She shut the door and started for the kitchen again. It was all business tonight, apparently, and if Percy's face said anything, she would need some luck tonight.


	20. Case Closed

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. **

**Chapter 20: Case Closed**

Audrey left Percy sitting alone as she disappeared to find her mother.

"Mum?"

"What happened?" Lucy turned at once from her desk.

Audrey stopped. "Hm?"

"Between Davis and Percy! Did they remember each other?"

Audrey let her mouth fall a little open as she contemplated her mother. "You _set them up_ to meet so you could watch how they react?"

"Yes, and?"

"And..." Audrey pulled herself back into the conversation. Her mother was growing sneakier by the day. "Percy pretended like he'd never met Davis, and Davis didn't get a memory jog, so I guess whatever's happened to him, Percy's responsible. Or knows, or something."

Lucy looked worried. "Let's try and keep away from Davis, Audrey. We don't want anyone being hurt if we involve them..."

Audrey studied her face. "Mum, Percy works for the government. Surely he's safe."

"And yet." Lucy reminded her. After a moment spent letting her point sink in on Audrey, she turned to lead her daughter back to the living area.

"Percy, so glad you could make it!" Lucy sat across from him, warm and welcoming as ever.

"I'm glad you could have me." He let both women settle in before beginning. "I'm afraid this call is strictly one of business."

"I understand." Lucy folded her hands, her eyes falling on Percy's briefcase, as if the answers to all her questions lay there. Percy's fingers slid nervously over the leather case as he began.

"First of all, I think you both should be informed that this morning, our investigation into Michael Bones' homicide was closed."

Lucy twisted her fingers together, her face remaining attentive.

"The case is to be kept confidential if possible. Our Department Head does not want this leaking to the press or the public."

.

_"But why get rid of her?" Bill asked as they leafed through papers. "I mean, sometimes it takes years to tell a squib from a wizard. She couldn't know before birth." _

_"Ever heard of divination?" _

_Bill snorted. "I thought you didn't believe in divination. I thought you only believed in logic and reason." _

_"I do. But she may not have." _

_"That still doesn't..."_

_"And," Percy interrupted him, "She was said to be in love with the Dark Lord, plus married to Lestrange. It would have been awkward on both fronts for her to produce a child. Plus, knowing Lestrange, she probably didn't want a child anyways. Can you see her as a mother?" _

_Bill paused a moment. "No." _

_"See." Percy turned his gaze back to their work. "So. First of all, she didn't want a child, ever. Secondly, this child was an illegitimate lovechild born not of her husband and not of her master, but of her brother-in-law. Thirdly, she apparently guessed that the child was at least weak in magic. You know how mothers often can feel their child's magic moving, or whatnot, in their womb?"_

_"Er...yes." Bill shifted uncomfortably. _

_"Well, this child obviously would have lacked that. And knowing Lestrange...if her baby wasn't the best, it wasn't to be at all. Having a child that was anything less than a prodigy would be an embarassment and disprove the whole idea of pureblood supremacy. Lestrange would have fallen out of favor, and, well...she wasn't about to jeopardize herself." _

.

"Because of the nature of this case, I'm afraid that as I said before, even the two of you can be told little."

Audrey made an impatient movement, stilled by Lucy. "That's fine, Percy."

"But why?" Audrey asked. "Can't you tell us why we can't be told?" She let him struggle for an answer before going on. "You said once that Dad was involved in something that was...I don't know, 'monumental importance to our government', was it?"

He shifted. He should have been more careful in how he defined government. "Not him, exactly. The ones who killed him. And," He hastened to add, "I said that in a time when we still had many questions, many unknowns to fill. I am now more able to pinpoint the reality of the situation."

"Then, please." Lucy said, taking Audrey's hand. "Share what you can."

Percy nodded and glanced down at his notes.

.

_He downed another doseage of pain potion, scowling at the images before him. _

_One was a copy of a murder case file from the Parisian police. James Scott, aged 49, deceased. _

_Cause of death: Unknown, possibly heart failure._

_Percy scribbled down his notes. He'd have to send a copy of this to the French Wizard Police, tell them what he had found. The pictures were telling enough. It was a simple Avada Kedavra, performed on 13 January, 1997. A witness had seen two men entering the crime scene, but not leaving. _

_The second picture was of a woman. Carol Berger, aged 37. Cause of Death: Unknown. But she had put up a fight; she had, unlike either man, tried to run. _

_James had been the manager at Chez Madame's when Audrey was born. Carol had been the dishwasher who found her. Both had moved on. James had become a restaurant manager in France, Carol had moved to America and become a journalist. Both had died the same night as Michael. They had been one of Percy's last threads of evidence, now cut off. _

_But of course, he thought dully. Three people found Audrey. Three people could tell about that night. Three people spoke to the police about it. All three would have to be got rid of to hush it all up. And they had been. Their killers had been meticulous, organized, thorough, and above all, very determined. _

_How very like a Lestrange. _

.

"Well." He began. "Here is the basic of what we know."

"Your biological mother was a forefront member of a known group of radicals, the identity of which is to remain confidential. Your biological father was also of prominent ranking in this group. His wife was your mother's sister, making them in-laws."

Audrey's face crinkled a little at this piece of information, but she said nothing.

He went on. "At some point in 1976 the two became involved with one another, though the affair did not last and was never even suspected until recently. After repeated attempted abortions, the mother resigned herself to giving birth, with probable intent to kill you as soon as you were birthed. On the 13th of January, 1977, she was assisted in birth by her sister, who gave the child-you, that is-to a servant and sent it away."

"You, or the child, were found later that night by one Michael Bones in Chez Madame's restaurant in London. You were taken to the hospital, treated, adopted, and so on." He skipped over the particulars, returning to Lestrange. "Twenty years later, your continuing existence was brought back the attention of this organisation. Your mother, to save her own face, chose to kill those who might still be able to prove the connection between you and her. Michael Bones was obviously the first to be eliminated."

They were still waiting, waiting for him to say something that would shock them. Clearly they'd talked one another through every possibly motive or scenario. Well...maybe not every scenario. The truth, he knew, was something neither of them would ever guess.

"On 13 January, 1997, Michael Bones was found dead. He was, as suspected, murdered. The cause of death is also to remain confidential. I can, however, assure you that it was a death both quick and painless."

"Why was he screaming?" Audrey asked softly. "His body was positioned so oddly, and he was screaming..."

"That," He paused in his outline to reply, "Is a frequent effect of the particular manner of his death. It is a common position the body assumes at the moment of death, but does not necessarily prove that the death was an agonising one." He waited, and when neither asked anything more, went on to his conclusion.

"The motive for which," here he came to the difficult part, "Lay within an old tradition amongst certain members of this radical organisation. According to their beliefs, all unfit children are to be killed to purify their gene pool. Michael Bones, unfortunately, came in their way unawares, by taking in one of their abandoned children. "

"Me." Audrey interrupted.

"Yes."

"So it was my fault." It was a straightforward assumption.

"Not you..." Percy searched for words for the first time. "You were the motive. But that doesn't mean it was your fault."

Audrey raised one eyebrow, and for one bitter second did look like a Black, did look very much like her mother's ancestry.

"It was their fault." The words fell out of his mouth in a firm tone as he tried to stay that look off her face. "It was theirs."

.

_Of course, it hadn't been Lestrange who had done the job herself. Oh, no, that would have been too obvious, Percy mused bitterly. Lestrange had been at Malfoy Manor that night, according to her sister and nephew. _

_So she'd sent someone else. Someone who followed orders and didn't ask. Not a glorious killer who enjoyed the blood, like Greyback. Someone mechanic, someone stupid. Someone who was a dedicated Death Eater, and yet hadn't been at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. _

_Luca Hatley had been one of the ones whose whereabouts were unaccounted for. Also, Uther Selwyn. Percy had gone down the list of names and pinned those two to the scene. Records from his family stated that Hatley had gone out late on the night of 13 January and returned less than an hour later. Uther Selwyn had a curious puncture in his left shoulder. The wound was matched to a bloodied pencil that had been at the scene of Carol Berger's murder. The evidence was by no means foolproof, but Selwyn could at least be placed as Berger's killer, and he was known to work often with Hatley during the War later that year. _

_Percy wrote it all down, not liking his findings, but forcing himself to put them down anyways. Forcing himself to do his job and well, forcing himself to prove that Audrey was Audrey Black-Malfoy, not actually Audrey Bones at all..._

.

Lucy took in all he had to say in silence. At long last, she was able cognate a response.

"Allow me to ask you something, Percy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are we in danger here?"

"If they had wanted to kill you," He assured her. "They would have already. I think it's fairly proven that they can't be avoided. You are in no danger that you do not put yourself into." His gaze flicked meaningfully over to Audrey. "As long as the witnesses to your birth are silent, and the witnesses to your finding are dead, there is no reason to believe that they will come back. If, however, you choose to inform them of your existence..."

"Then what?" She asked.

"Precautions will have to be made." He finished. "We've succeeded in putting a stop to most of their doings. But as long as a few exist, we would have to be sure of your safety before releasing such news as general knowledge." He wouldn't say it to them, but he was more worried about the common Wizarding World than the remaining Death Eaters. The Death Eaters were down, they wouldn't give a damn about Audrey. But the rest of the world hated Lestrange enough that finding she had a daughter would be...disconcerting. And unfortunate. He waited for one of them to respond.

Audrey stared down at her hands as the silence pressed down on them.

"So that's it." She said finally.

"That is all." He responded, back to that stiff, formal bureaucrat he'd been at their first meeting.

But you haven't told us anything, she wanted to plead. "Can't you tell us anything more?"

"I'm afraid release of any further details are barred by the Department. Disclosure of said information can only be given with the permission of the Department Head or his superiors." He sounded like an automated broken tape. Audrey pressed her hands to her forehead. Was that a headache throbbing at the back of her head?

Percy watched her, aware of how stern and yes, ridiculous, he sounded, but determined not to lose face. Not now. It had been a trying day, but he still wasn't out of it yet. Her reaction was going to be...well, everything. It would mean nothing in the wizard world, wizard life would go on. She couldn't affect them a jot.

But for him, specifically, it was going to make quite the difference_. This,_ he realised, _is the part where she gets angry and tells me she only went out with me because she wanted information and now she hasn't got it, and I end up running away. This is that part of the story, isn't it?_

She was looking at him, deep lines across her brow, half-angry and half-tired. "Is there a way I could get that 'disclosure' of further information?" She asked quietly.

He met her eyes with all seriousness. "I have entertained the thought. It is possible for you on the basis of your birth and blood relations, to gain some form of status that would allow you information. But it would entail a great deal of time, and a great deal of paperwork." Time and effort that the Ministry simply didn't have the resources for. "I would, however, advise you to wait if you intend to apply for auxiliary status. We're severely short staffed, and we have a lot of work to be done. It simply wouldn't be convenient for anyone at the moment." He cleared his throat, looking away. "And I warn you, that you will not like what you hear."

"I don't like what I'm _not_ hearing." She responded drily before leaning back. "And Mum?" She looked at Lucy, and he followed her gaze.

"I'm afraid that you, Mrs. Bones, cannot apply for auxiliary status. If Audrey were to gain entry, she would have to keep all details, and even most generalities, undisclosed to you."

Lucy only nodded, calmly accepting his words. "But you advise we wait until...a more convenient time?"

Percy wet his lips. "I'm afraid that applications at the moment will only be put on hold. I'm not even sure I could find the proper paperwork, our archives and records are...faulty, at the moment." Faulty. What a pretty word for those huge rooms of wrecked paper, files, archives, documents...It had broken Percy's heart to see the disorganised, brainless Maurice Mulligan put in charge of records under Thicknesse. He absently wondered if that was to be his new position before returning to the task at hand.

"We will talk it over and decide later." Lucy said, still calm. Too calm.

"I'll leave you, then. I'm sorry all of this had to happen." He told them both. "And I'm sorry that I can't tell you more."

"Don't be." Lucy rose with him. "Really, Percy, we thank you so much. You've given us a degree of relief we didn't think we'd have."

Percy ducked his head as Audrey faintly echoed her mother. He could sense her disappointment. Her body language was clear enough as she led him back to the door without a word. Yes, she was tired, very tired. At the door, she stopped and turned back to face him.

She wanted to reach out and touch him. He looked so stiff, like someone had shoved a snowball down his shirt. "Percy."

"Audrey." _Here it comes_, he told himself. You _knew it was coming. Now she goes off in your face, Weasley. _

"I do thank you, really." She said honestly.

"I did only my job." He murmured, not looking at her.

She shook her head, at a loss for a moment. "But that's the point, Percy, it is your job, and you've done it well. Thank you. Please accept our gratitude."

"Accepted." He waited. Surely there was more.

She glanced up at him. "I'm going to try to get more information."

"I can get you the paperwork, though you will need someone to help you fill it out, and you must be aware that you may be rejected as unsuitable."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"I know you're busy." She ducked her head. "But if I absolutely need someone to help me out..."

"Oh." He rubbed his brow. "Well, yes, I could help. If you wanted."

"Good." She smiled for the first time, and the tension seemed to ease enormously. "Thank you so much."

He gave a nod, feeling himself relax with her as he shifted his briefcase to his other hand. "I'll get it as soon as possible and have you look it over."

"You don't discourage me from trying?"

He thought a moment before responding. "Frankly, Audrey, it has been my experience with...women of your family, that when determined, you can easily become unstoppable."

She quirked a smile as he reached for the doorknob. "I'll take that as a compliment, though I'm not sure that was how it was meant."

"You're welcome."

She let him go out the door, then stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Percy?"

"Yes?"

_Stupid, you should have stopped him before_, she berated herself before leaning up quickly to drop a kiss on his cheek. "We really appreciate this." She murmured, still close.

"My pleasure." He responded, then kicked himself for the way that sounded. He would have preferred a kiss a little closer to his mouth, but he'd settle for what he had got. She tentatively pulled away with another smile, and he bid her good-night. As he turned to walk out of sight, he let relief wash over him.

She _hadn't_ told him off. She _had _kissed him. And they had a reason to meet again. Ergo, it wasn't over.

He breathed a sigh.

That had gone unexpectedly well.


	21. Not Letting Go

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. **

**Chapter 21: Not Letting Go**

Percy stared at the foreign object. There were a lot of squares with numbers and letters on them. And the middle square had a little bump on it. And there was a slit at the top, and a hole at the bottom. There was a long curly piece of thick string coming out of it, too. And there was the only piece of the thing he could identify, the reciever. He stared at it long and hard before picking it up. He had reviewed his Muggle Studies homework, with its detailed diagram of a telephone, until he was fairly certain he could use it and not embarrass himself.

The receiver went to his ear. He knew that, of course, from his experience with the ministry telephone booth. And the numbers...he punched in the correct sequence carefully. Strange things, these muggle inventions.

"Audrey Bones."

"This is Percy Weasley."

"Oh." There was a heavy thump in the background. "Hello, Percy."

"Hello." He fidgeted with the long curly strong until his finger got stuck in the curls and he couldn't pull it out. "I was just calling to see how the two of you were."

"We're well." She sounded flushed. "And you?"

"I'm also well..." He bit his lip, rubbed his eyebrow, and decided to get on with it.

"Are you busy this weekend?"

"This weekend...?"

"Yes."

"No. I mean, I have to work on Friday, but not on Saturday...why?"

"I was wondering if you..." He rubbed his eyebrow again. "If you could go out to dinner with me. Sometime. Saturday night." He was sweating. Why was he sweating? Because she would say no, that was why.

"I'd love to."

"You would? I mean, oh. Excellent. Copacetic."

"Just tell me when and where."

.

Audrey hung up her phone, still standing in the shambles of her room. She had been putting away her laundry...until he'd called, and she'd knocked over the basket and now her cleaned clothes were all over the floor. She stared at the items hanging up to dry around the room. What was she going to wear? What was she going to do? Or say? Percy had just asked her out, for real. A genuine date, at a nice restaurant.

"Mum!" She started for the stairs.

"Audrey, Davis is here!"

She stopped, growled in her throat, and started down the stairs two at a time. "Davis! Why do you have to come at the most inconvenient of..." She landed at the bottom and found Davis standing at the bottom...with his arm around a girl. A very pretty one.

"Times?" Davis asked.

"What?"

"Most inconvenient of times. That's when I arrive, right?"

"Yes." She agreed, coming forward to meet the stranger as he turned to introduce them.

"This is Audrey. She's really a lot more put together most of the time."

"Well, thanks..."

"Ethan." The young woman gave Davis a look and a poke in the ribs before turning her brown eyes back on Audrey. "He is uncouth, isn't he?"

"He is." Audrey agreed, smoothing her hair. "I promise it isn't my fault. He was worse when I met him."

"I believe it." The brown eyes danced. "Audrey, I've heard so much about you from Ethan. It's good to finally meet you."

Finally? They'd only been together what, a week? Audrey smiled back. "And you, too..."

"Penny." The young woman supplied. "I'm Penny Clearwater."

"My new girlfriend." Davis finished proudly.

.

Audrey ran her fingers over her face, checking her makeup for flaws. Everything appeared to be in place. She reached for her dress and slid it on over her hips.

"Need help?" Lucy was in the doorway.

"Mind fastening my necklace?"

Lucy stepped around the back and fingered the clasp for a moment before Audrey heard it snap in place. "There."

Audrey looked at herself critically. "How do I look?"

"Radiant. How do I look?"

"Mum, this is serious."

"Audrey, you are a lovely young woman who looks unusually lovely tonight. And Percy would agree with that, but that he would use a six-syllable word to express the same sentiment."

"Thanks, Mum. I never thought I'd meet someone who out-geeked me and my science textbooks." She turned from the mirror and slipped on her shoes.

"How is he getting you there?"

"No car." Audrey reminded her mother. "We're taking a cab."

"How romantic."

"Mum. It's a first date. And we're not very romantic anyway."

"Teasing, darling."

The doorbell rang. Audrey moved to answer it, suddenly possessed of a desire to spend another hour in front of the mirror.

"Good evening." She greeted him.

"Good evening." He responded in kind, taking in her dress with a pleasantly surprised glance. "You look pulchritudinous."

"Pardon?"

"I mean...you look very nice." He corrected himself, as she filed the word away in her mind. She'd have to look it up later and hope it meant something good. Judging by the look on his face, though, she could assume for now that it was meant as a compliment. "Are you ready?"

"I am."

At the restaurant, they slipped into their seats at a small table. It was nice, but not too nice. Audrey knew from her father that it was a decent establishment, but reasonable in price. She glanced gingerly up at him as he sat across from her.

"I was surprised you called."

"Well, I had also other reasons for getting in touch with you." He slid a brown file across the table at her. "The paperwork to apply for permissive status."

"Oh." She felt her face fall a little. Still a working relationship, obviously.

"And I felt I owed you after those several dinners I had with you and your mother." He met her gaze across the table and they were back to just them, no work. From the way he'd looked at her, she would have thought he was interested only in her, and the paperwork was simply an excuse...oh.

After placing their orders, he struck up the conversation. "So you said you've got a job?"

"Yes." She shrugged. "It's a teaching position. Not full-time, but if I don't like the hours I can get another job and work double."

"That's good." He commented. "You like it, then?"

"Yesterday was my orientation. School starts in a little over a week, so it ought to work out well and nicely. I think I'll like it."

"And Lucy? How's she been in the last few days?"

"Well." Audrey nodded. "Now that Dad is...officially over and done with, she seems to be doing well." She skimmed over that topic. She didn't really want to talk about Dad, or about her parents, or murder, or any of that tonight. She wanted this to be the first in a series of murder-free nights. Her gaze fell upon the file on the table. Murder free, but still with paperwork to be done, apparently. "And how is your family?"

"Well also." He nodded. "My little sister just turned seventeen. It's...frightening, actually, to think that's she's overage now."

"Is she the bold type?"

"Very. I'm afraid she'll go out and get an _I Love Potter_ tattoo or something." He smiled ruefully. She didn't quite get the joke, but smiled with him anyways.

"And George?"

"George." He glanced down at his plate, surprised she'd even thought of George. "He's well. He was, um...sick for a few months, but he's better now."

"That's good." She let the topic drop and moved on to something she knew he wouldn't mind telling her about. "So, what are you working on now?"

.

Percy glanced across at Audrey. She did look pulchritudinous tonight. He didn't know a thing about dresses or what women wore, but he knew she looked nice.

He hadn't wanted to just let things drop as they had been. It wasn't much fun being alone after one had got used to companionship. He liked her, he'd admit, and it was becoming increasingly probable that she liked him, against all odds. Things like this didn't happen to him every day, especially not anymore, and he wasn't about to let it go.

If he could play his cards right, if he could manage the muggle versus the magical world, get around the fact of her birth and his birth, if he could get her past the murder, if he could get his family to like her, if he could get her to like him, if he could get around all this plus all the other things in his way...it might just work out. But that was a lot of _ifs_.

_Shut it,_ he told himself. _Don't think about you. Think about her. Think about..._well, he didn't want to think too much about how nice she looked. That might get distracting.

"How is your friend Davis?"

She glanced up at him, a little surprised. "Oh, he's, um, fine." A memory seemed to trigger as she shook her head. "He has a girlfriend he's eager to show off to people, so he seems happy."

"Good." She hadn't asked yet about the obliviation. She couldn't have guessed yet. Godric knew what she'd do when she did find out...he didn't want to think about that either. He glanced across at her, with that long black hair.

She didn't look a thing like Bellatrix Lestrange.

.

There was something strangely riveting about walking in the park at dark. Audrey glanced off the path, and wondered for a moment about muggers or homeless bummers. But then again...she glanced back at Percy. It was worth the risk when he had her arm tucked in his. Deliberately, this time.

"So." She brought up a topic that had been admittedly successful on their last evening out together. "What was your first job?"

"This game again?"

"A good way to learn irrelevant, insignificant details about one another."

"When I was six, I sold muggle newspapers."

"As opposed to...?"

He muttered something that sounded a little like a swear word. "As opposed to non-muggle newspapers."

"Ah. I don't see."

"You shouldn't." He told her. "My turn."

"Fine."

"What in your opinion, is the basis of morality and ethics?"

"Not fair. I gave you an easy one."

"I'm merely gauging your mindset."

She gave a grudging sound in her throat as she thought of an answer. "Well...I believe that God is the basis of morality and ethics. His word is law. And now," She rounded on him, "What happens when you die, in your opinion?"

"Define die."

"Die. Stop living. Cessation of all heartbeat." Wasn't that a fairly obvious definition?

"Difficult question." He responded. "From what I hear from those who know about such things, there is a sort of heaven, a definite hell, and a third alternative."

"What's the third alternative?"

"That's not part of the question, and you only get one."

"Percy, that's cheating."

"Well, even if it is, I can't answer your question." He replied pragmatically.

"I'm surprised you have such pat answers." She commented, subtly letting the first topic drop.

"I had a friend who liked to discuss philosophy at a very difficult time in both our lives. We..." He coughed, "Learned a lot from one another."

"He died?"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"Most people have." He said, still pragmatic. He'd tried hard ever since then not to think about it. Not to think about how hard it had been as he ran through the names of the dead. The list had seemed to get longer and longer...He shook his head to get it out of his mind. It was over. It was over now, and they were gone. He was here, and he was safe. This was reality, and he had to live in it. "For the record, I'm not surprised you have such pat answers."

"Oh?"

"You yourself said you like to know everything."

"An attitude more than eclipsed by yourself." She shot back with a scoff.

"Touche." He pondered his next question. "What was_ your_ first job?"

"We're back easy questions now?"

"I thought I'd leave the matter of evil and suffering for a later date."

"Thank you. And my first job was as a dishwasher at the restaurant where my parents worked. I was a very dependent child. Couldn't bear to work alone."

"Hm." He hummed disapprovingly.

"And you?"

"Not dependent." He confessed. "I fend for myself." He sounded a little proud and a little ashamed.

"But you can't _always_ fend for yourself." She argued. "It doesn't work that way."

"I can try." He replied drily. "And fate seems to have arranged my life in such a manner that anyone who helps me is going to get killed, so...I might as well help myself. Those who help me, don't last long."

She was silent for a long moment.

"Sorry. That isn't something one says on a date, is it?"

"No." She agreed. "It isn't. But under the circumstances of our meeting, I'd say it's all right. We only know one another because my birth mother killed my father."

"True." He agreed. "A relationship beginning under such inauspicious circumstances is bound to be fraught with..." He trailed off, looking for an appropriate term.

"Angst?" She supplied cheerily.

"I suppose."

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Mm-hm."

"You said just a moment ago that 'fate' directed your life. What do you really believe directs our lives...Fate? Chance? Destiny? God? Darth Vader?"

"Back to hard questions, I see."

"I like the hard questions."

He thought a long time on that, answering carefully. "I have seen things. And I cannot conclude from my experience, and from my reason, that no God exists. So I suppose He, or It, or They, must have some effect on life. Chance, I think, also plays a large part, being manifest in the results of poor action of our fellow men. Divine intervention or happenstance, then, I suppose, would be the answer to your question. And now it's my turn."

"All right."

"What is this 'Dark Vader' you were talking about?"

"I think you mean, Darth Vader."

"Yes. Is that a theological reference? I've never heard of it."

"You've..." She looked up at him. "You've never heard of Darth Vader?"

"No..." He looked away. "As I said, I didn't grow up in a place like you..."

"No kidding." She shook her head. "Darth Vader is a fictional character very well known in popular culture."

"Oh, popular culture." He said dismissively.

She burst into giggles at his tone. "Percy, where did you grow up?"

"Devon!"

"Not the Devon I've heard of." She told him. "Can I say something?"

"You may."

"I think you're lying. I don't think you're from Devon at all."

"I'm not sure that's proper date-fodder, either, Audrey."

"I'm not a romantic person."

"Thank Godric. Neither am I."

"You just changed the subject, didn't you?"

"Yes. But on that topic; just wait until you meet my family. I'll show you someday, we do live in Devon."

"As you like it." She shrugged and they kept walking. "We will have to sit you down and watch Star Wars someday, though."

"Star Wars?"

"Yes, it's a film series. Darth Vader is the villain."

"Oh." He glanced down at her. "Is it of cultural importance?"

"Very much so. It was made in the 70's, and it opened the doors of the culture to all kinds of metaphysical and mystical beliefs."

"It's about magic?"

"No...More about science fiction. Eastern mysticism, a pinch of new age..." She trailed off. "I can't believe you've never heard of this."

"Sorry. I'm not really into mysticism." Oddly enough, considering he was the wizard in this conversation.

"Tell me something I haven't guessed." She stretched a little and glanced up at the sky. She'd never got along well on dates. They always ended poorly because she simply didn't know what to talk about. And most men were...ignorant. It felt nice to be able to discuss ethics, metaphysics, and the meaning of life with someone not a professor. Swot to swot, she mused. I don't know if he's enjoying this, but I sure am. Better than talking about football and shopping, at any rate.

.

Audrey stepped into the front hall, wishing for the moment that her mother hadn't asked her to stay living at home. Wishing she had her own place. "Thank you, Percy. I had a good time."

"As did I." He responded. The hall was dark, but the streetlights outside were shining in through the doorway, making one side of his face dark and the other side light. "Thank you for agreeing to go out with me after our inauspicious history."

She smiled, wondering if her makeup was still pretty and her hair was still nice-looking. "My pleasure." She responded saucily, echoing his words of a few days earlier. He understood her reference, chuckling and glancing away, making the light glint on his glasses. He seemed to hesitate a moment before stepping a little closer.

She tilted her head up to look at him, not sure until he leaned down and kissed her gently. She responded instantly this time, having already been expecting, hoping for this. She had taken off her high heels, and he was too tall, really, when she was in her bare feet. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach him, and it made her feet ache, but it was worth it.

He was a good kisser, better than expected. She slid her hands up to his shoulders as his hands rested on her elbows. After a moment, both broke away and she took a breath, their faces still close.

And then kissed him again. Percy was surprised, but took it in kind, responding. Her kiss was almost hesitant, but delicious nonetheless. This kiss was different, this time he was in his right mind and knew what he wanted, knew what he was doing. He was only half-aware of his hands sliding to her waist. Now that he was holding her, touching her, he realized what a very nice body she had. Not ideal, but still...well worth holding.

For one instant, their mouths parted, and he felt their tongues flick against one another, though he couldn't have said whose fault that was. He felt a pleasant shiver go down in his stomach as he pressed another kiss against her mouth.

Oh, and that was one more good thing about her. She didn't make him take off his glasses to kiss her.

Her hands were on his chest, he noticed as they pulled apart.

Oh, no, he wasn't letting go of this.

"Thank you," she murmured again, stepping back.

"I think we've used up the opportunity to say it was my pleasure." He joked lightly, trying to pull himself together again. "I should be going."

"Good night."

"Good night." He glanced down at the file still in her hand. "When you decide to work on that, let me know."

"I will. Soon."

"Good." He bade her good night and started down the road. He didn't dare apparate just yet. His head was in the clouds, and didn't know if Audrey might be watching.

She was.

**A/N: All right, I really tried to write a nice, fluffy chapter with zero substance and lots of romantic jargon for your enjoyment, but it just wouldn't come. These two are just not very romantic couple, despite my best efforts, so I'm sorry, this is what you get. I hope it's not too...heavy.**


	22. WOMBAT

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. **

**Chapter 22: WOMBAT**

The brown folder in Audrey's hand kept drawing her eyes as she hurried up the stairs. Bubbling anticipation was rising inside her, though she couldn't have said whether it was because of what tonight might bring, or what the papers might reveal. Percy, or the secrets he knew? She raised her hand to knock.

After a moment and a few strange taps from the other side of the door, it swung open.

.

Percy drew himself up to his full height, took a breath, and pulled open the door.

Audrey was on the other side, of course, and he had to remind himself what he'd decided. All of this kissy-nonsense had to stop. Yes, he could try and have a relationship with a muggle, but there were certain things she would need to understand. Tonight, she was coming over so he could help her with her entry into the Wizard World. She'd never be able to handle it if he didn't prepare her.

She needed to be told. At least some things. And it wasn't only for her, he supposed, it was for both their benefit. If she couldn't deal with wizards and their ways, she was wasting his time.

He smiled innocently as he held open the door.

"I sure hope this all makes sense to you," Audrey said, file in hand, "Because I am utterly lost. I can't really make heads or tails of this. What kind of questions are these?"

"The necessary kind. It's just a preliminary form." Percy told her, letting her in. "We want to know if you're competent..." He trailed off in thought as they both moved to sit and he took the papers from her hands. Oh, yes, and tonight was about getting her paperwork ready. Hopefully he could offer a little explanation, a bit of forewarning, as things went on and progressed to the end Audrey seemed to be grasping for; The Wizard World itself.

She settled back. "You do that a lot, you know?"

"Hm?"

"You stop talking so you can think about what you want to say so you don't say something you wouldn't want me to hear."

"I have a lot that I don't want you to hear." He rejoindered, adding, "Yet." Shaking his head, he resumed his thought. "We can't let just anyone into our confidence. You have to prove valid reason, give personal information, specifics, details." He held up the papers. "That's what all this is for. When this is done, if you're deemed acceptable, you'll be given a test to ensure that you can live safely-"

"There's more?" She sounded surprised.

"Oh, yes." He glanced at another folder on the table, this one thicker. "The WOMBATS are more practical knowledge-testing. You'll have to study hard to pass them...if you still want to take the test after you've studied." He knew that it would take her a good while to study enough to pass Wizards Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Test, though he could have instantly answered every question with ease. It would take hours of study to get her even a passing grade. But without a basic knowledge of the Wizard World, there was no way the Ministry would allow her auxiliary status, especially in the current political climate.

"So. How am I supposed to answer these questions?"

"What matters is that you got the most important ones." He thumbed through the pages.

"I didn't." She responded. "There were some that I'm afraid boggled me completely. I don't even understand what they're talking about." She took the sheaf from his hand and turned back to the first page, pointing to a blank space. "Blood Status?"

He glanced down at it with a slight grimace. After a glance at her, he picked up a pencil and scribbled into the spot. Audrey leaned forward to see what he wrote.

Pureblood.

"I'm pureblood?"

"As pure as they come." He said. It was impossible to miss the undertone of bitterness, or was that sarcasm?

"Pureblood what?"

"Well, if you knew what, you wouldn't be doing this paperwork."

She gave him a look. "You really know all the answers, don't you?"

"I do."

"And I don't suppose you could just...tell me any of them?"

"I most certainly could not."

"Of course not." She pointed to another spot. "Mother's name. What do I say for that?"

.

They worked in a companionable manner for some time, filling in the spaces she had missed, correcting answers to questions she had misunderstood. Percy carefully went over each word, occasionally pleasantly surprised to find her leaning against or close to him to read his or her own writing. Each time, though, he had to pull himself back, had to stay focused. Tonight was a night of business. Being hormonal and otherwise physically-driven would not help the shallowness of her knowledge or their relationship. If he wanted one, he'd have to transfer a little more information over to her to ensure she understood just what she was walking into...and to know if he could trust her.

No kissing tonight. He didn't need it.

Yes, the kissing stuff was nice, but it was speedily turning them in a direction devoid of substance. He didn't want a physical relationship; he could get that anywhere if he'd been crude enough. What he wanted was a true relationship, and those could only be based on trust...based on truth. Damned truth, Percy groused inwardly as he returned his mind to more professional matters. He couldn't let his reeling, dependent soul get too attached to a muggle girl who would walk out on him the first time she heard a spell.

Relationships, he chided himself, were not about being silly and feeling-in-love. Even love was controlled by reason, and he'd have to be reasonable about this if he wanted to keep from making a huge blunder. Yes, he wanted Audrey more than he'd expected to. But it would never last as long as he was basically lying to her.

.

Audrey shook her head, bemused as she filled in another blank. "Halls of study...Really, it is like entering another country, isn't it?"

"Quite." Percy agreed. "I'm sure that once you're on the other side, you'll come to realise the necessity of all of this."

"Do you?"

"Absolutely." Percy said. "If I ran the world, it'd be a lot harder...and I ran the world, we wouldn't even be taking applicants to the...I mean, for entry...to the archives."

"You know." She gazed at him as he fumbled. "I can't wait until I know everything and you can just stop stuttering every time you open your mouth."

He gave her a look that was half apologetic and half frustrated. There was a long pause as they both seemed to mutually come to a stopping place in their task.

Audrey stretched her cramped fingers, laying back her head on the lumpy couch. "Is this really worth it?"

"I hope so."

She glanced over at him. "If you were me, would it be worth it?" He hadn't sounded sure.

He paused for contemplation. If he were Audrey, there wouldn't be much point in entering the wizard world. She had no magic, an ugly history, and no opportunities in that world. Except, well, him. "I don't know." He answered vaguely. "I suppose it might be if you wanted it to." He glanced over at her. "Though you should be aware that this won't be pretty."

"I know that." She pushed herself up. "In fact, I was under the impression that it was all ugly. Is there a good side to any of this cloak-and-dagger?"

"Well..." He kept having to remind himself what was in her mind. She thought she was getting secret files from a government cabinet somewhere, not discovering an entire hidden society. He turned towards her.

"Audrey." He began in earnest. "This thing is bigger than just your father and some crazy racial supremacists."

"I know that."

"It's...bigger than me or you, or even..." He searched for the right words. "It's big." He finished at last. "It's going to really change to way you look at things. At everything. History, philosophy, science, everything...it's all changed by this."

She looked blank.

He wanted to slap himself. He was making no sense at all. "Sorry. I guess..."

"That was a bit melodramatic."

"It's true, though."

"Lovely." She laid her head back calmly as if he hadn't just told her one of the greatest secrets known to puzzle and astonish modern man. "And if it's so true and so all-encompassing, why don't I know about it already?"

"Because it's a secret." He explained.

"Hm. Sounds like a conspiracy theory."

"Well, yes, but..."

She turned to him, shifting on the couch. "Look, Percy, I don't know what's coming. I know you know, and it's obviously very important to you. I don't really understand any of this, but all I can do is try to work with what I have. I'm doing that. When the shock comes...it'll come. I'm not panicking yet, though. I'll deal with all of this when I understand it better, and for now all I can do is work toward that coming." She leaned back to study him. "Sort of the 'cross that bridge when I come to it' kind of thing."

"Right." He ran his hand across his eyes. "I suppose that might be wise..."

"Might be?"

"I honestly don't know." He told her, dropping his hand. "I don't know what to tell you anymore." At least he had time. Audrey's application for entry would be submitted and put on a shelf somewhere until the Ministry had time for it. Until they got results, which would be months at the least, Percy could decide what to do.

"But it's big, and it's bad." She surmised, wrapping her arms around herself. "But there are some good things about it."

"There are lots of good things about it." He was quick to defend his world. "I mean, there's..." he thought of Hogwarts, of the huge library. She'd love that. And Flourish and Blotts, with its rows and balconies of books. She'd like that, too. Plus Honeydukes, Madam Malkin's, Diagon Alley, the Burrow...she'd like those things. And his family...well, he could only hope she'd like them and they'd like her. Not to mention, the idea of magic itself... "There's a lot things that make it easy to love." He finished. "But at the same time, there's a dark side."

"Of course." She said. "There's always a dark side."

"Unfortunately." He agreed. "There is."

"And what about this dark side?"

He thought. "It's...dark." It wasn't very eloquent, but it was the first word that came to mind when he remembered the occupation of the ministry, the dementors, Ginny and the diary, the Triwizard Tournament, the whole damn war. "People die. Some of them really horrible deaths." He snuck a glance at her. "Your father was fortunate. He died a quick, painless death. Others died horrible deaths. Starved, or beaten, or raped..." He shook his head to clear the images of Thicknesse's office from his mind. "It was a bad time, and it's passed, and now we're trying to...to clean it all up."

She was studying him, her head leaning against her hand. "And who do you know who died a horrible death?" She pried gently.

He looked away uncomfortably. Now she was pushing it.

"Come on, Percy. You can trust me." Her words were directly pointing at just what he'd been thinking earlier, and she didn't even know it. Yes, he ought to tell her...something. Maybe not about Fred, but about someone. Someone who had died. Mr. Crouch? He would have liked to tell her about Ginny and the diary, but it would have been impossible to put that into muggle terms. He knew that if he could tell her, she would understand so much more about it all...she'd understand about the Dark Lord, and Purebloods, and horcruxes, and Potter. It was really an all-encompassing event. But it wouldn't work to put into muggle terms. It was too deep, and would just have to wait. Fred then, he resigned himself. It was one of the other, most personal things he'd felt during the war, when he'd blocked himself away from all emotion. He'd become just a machine in those days, and now he was working towards emotion again.

He sighed, realising his face had become haggard, and looked down at her. "Well. There was this...Um, fight. Kind of."

"Yes.

"And, um..." How to explain it to her. "There were these Death Eaters—you know what they are—attacking a school."

"Was there anyone inside?" She gasped.

"Yes, it was a boarding school, full of students and teachers." He pushed ahead before she asked why. "And so my family...being in the business of justice, naturally was called on to go."

"You were there?"

"Yes." He let her ask her questions, needing to explain it slowly and coherently. Telling her that Rookwood had chased he, Fred, Ron, and Potter into one of the turrets and then used incendium on the door before striking Fred with a curse would not do. "I was there. And so, we all showed up together and went to go fight for the school." He pushed into the difficult part. "I was with my brother, Fred. He's one of the twins..."

"I remember."

"...And we were going along some of the passage...I mean, hallways, and there was this one Death Eater, name of Rookwood. And he...killed Fred." He blurted out the last part as quickly as possible, realising too late that this was a bad idea, he didn't want to bring her this close or tell her all of this. He didn't want to go over the details again and tell her everything and then get all emotional and end up humiliating himself in the end anyways.

After a long silence following his abrupt end, he dared glance over at her. She looked a mixture of stricken and sad as she stared at him. "Your brother Fred?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me he was dead before?"

"What?"

"I mean...that didn't come out right. I'm sorry, Percy. That must have horrible for you. I can see why you wouldn't want to mention it."

"No." He said, a little miffled. All right, so it was a little odd of him to introduce family members to her and then tell her they were dead weeks afterwards, but what else was he supposed to do? Point to Fred in all of his pictures and say, 'that's the dead one'? He looked at his hands. "Yes, so there's one death I saw."

"You saw it?"

"I had to drag his body to a safe place. Of course I saw it. He was looking right at me."

She shrank from his tone a little. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

There was a long pause as he kicked himself for starting with Fred. Mr. Crouch would have been a better way to introduce her to the war.

She picked up his hand and studied it in her own. "Percy, I'm sorry. I must seem like a complete arse to have been whining all this time about my father when you've already lost a brother to the Death Eaters. You really do know what you're doing."

"I do." He agreed grimly.

"When did he die?"

"May 2nd, 1998."

"1998?"

"Yes."

"That's...three months ago."

"Yes, and?"

She fell silent and when he looked at her again her eyes were pitying him.

"Oh, stop it with the puppy eyes." He told her impatiently. "I hate that."

"Sorry."

"And stop saying you're sorry. Everyone is, and it doesn't make anything better."

"I know." She told him. "I've been there. At Dad's funeral and afterwards. But you know, there's really nothing else to say."

"Then just don't say anything." He told her. He'd already discovered this during his own problems.

"That's how you cope, isn't it." She realised slowly.

"What?"

"You pretend it's not happening, or it didn't happen. You just don't talk about it, don't think about it, and you work."

"Well...yes."

"That doesn't work, Percy." She told him seriously, still holding his hand. He felt like a child being given a talking-to. "You know what they say about time bombs."

"No, I don't."

She huffed impatiently. "Do you know what a time bomb is?"

"No."

"Somehow I'm not surprised." She ran her hands through her hair. The conversation had shifted from the uncomfortable pitying mood to a plane on which they were both more comfortable; the practical, coping plane. "The longer a bomb goes without exploding or detonating, the more lethal it becomes. They say there are some landmines buried in the beaches at Normandy from World War II, and the time they've spent dormant makes them a lot more potent when people stumble across them now."

"Oh, really?" He didn't quite know what she was talking about, but he understood the idea she was expressing. "Well, then I pity that man upon whom I explode." His war rage had largely come out on Rookwood and Thicknesse...he'd killed two men, and it had made him feel a great deal better about the whole thing. The post-war rage was still seething, though, he supposed.

"Or," She admonished, "You could try something more effective at dealing with your problems."

"Puppy eyes and 'I'm sorrys'? I'd rather explode on myself, thanks."

She punched his shoulder. "See? I'm trying to help you, and you're being snarky and sarcastic and pretending we're not talking about this."

"Well, what am I supposed to say? Sitting around and talking about my dead relations is awkward, you must admit, Audrey."

"It's supposed to be awkward." She told him. "That's why it's not."

He pondered that for a moment before looking over at her through his glasses. "That makes no sense."

"Have you never put yourself into an awkward situation?"

"Not deliberately. I prefer to remain composed, thank you."

"So you're never vulnerable?" She asked. "You never cry on anyone?"

"No."

"What about your family?"

"What about them?"

"I think I found the problem." She announced.

"No you didn't. There is no problem. I deal with my problems alone, rationally, and I don't need anyone else to blubber on."

"Yes, you do, everyone does." She said, sounding annoyingly like Penny. "Ever since the first man experienced pain, humans were meant to blubber on one another about their hurt."

"Well, I'm not like that!"

"Well, that's not rational!" She came back at him. "You're human, are you not?"

"Yes it...it is, it just wouldn't make sense to you."

"Well, if it's rational, it ought not to be relative, and therefore ought to be explicable to me the same as to you. Ergo, if it makes sense to you it ought to make sense to me if you explain it. We're both rational beings."

"I can't explain it."

"Then either A) you don't understand it _and therefore need help_, or B) it's not rational." She leaned back, her expression triumphant.

"Why do you have to be such a Ravenclaw?" He muttered. Why couldn't he have fallen for Hufflepuff, a nice, innocent Hufflepuff who didn't argue with him.._.Because, _he answered his own question, _Hufflepuffs are stupid. Mostly._ And now he was on a tangent. He pulled himself back before realising he had no response for her.

"You know I'm right."

"I don't know that, but in favour of peace, I won't argue my point."

"You know I'm right."

He rose to get more tea. "Not arguing."

She sighed victoriously and followed him to the kitchen. "You must break your mother's heart."

"I do, but she's got six...five...no, six others to patch her back together. She's fine." He reassured her.

"Six others?"

"My little brother's friend...he's sort of become one of the family. Especially to my parents. So even without Fred, it's still six of us kids. And Bill's wife. And Hermione." He thought. "And Neville. And Luna, too, kind of."

"Anyone else?"

"Well...No. That's all."

"Ah." She stirred sugar into her tea. "And out of curiosity, how do you play into that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm prying. How are things with your family?"

He shrugged. "I'm grown up, my family doesn't need me there anymore."

"I'm grown up, and I still live with my mother."

"Well, I'm sure your dynamic is very different than mine. You're a girl, and your mother needs you in the aftermath of your father's death."

"And what about your brother?"

Percy shrugged. "I take care of George as best I can. But I'm afraid my ways of comfort really aren't help at all. George is emotional, like most people, and he wants emotion-based comfort. People in mourning don't like being told that logical, coherent thinking is the only answer to their grief. Unless they're me."

"Of course." She agreed. "You're a machine."

He gave her a look.

"No offence." She pushed a thick lock of black hair behind her ear. "So how is George, anyways?"

"Better." Percy shrugged. "He's planning some grand reopening of this shop he and Fred used to own. Work helps; He and his...well, he and Angelina and Lee, his friends, are planning it all."

"Ah." She replied reflectively. In retrospect, Percy and his family really made a lot more sense with one of them dead. The 'sick' brother, the brother who didn't get mentioned in conversation, the tiredness, the stress... Audrey looked down and felt a pang of guilt again. She'd been stressing him out about her father when he'd had his own problems to deal with. And what about his poor brother...how hard it must have been to lose a twin.

"Anyways." Percy said officially, pushing himself off the counter. "We need to finish your paperwork."

"Ugh."

"I know. I feel the same. But the sooner we get it in, the sooner it will get looked at."

"Fine, fine." She returned to the couch.

"And maybe if we come to a stopping place we can break for dinner." He sat and resumed his position as the Ministry official, looking over her papers with a professional eye. She nudged at the waiting file on the coffeetable with her toe. WOMBAT was punched in big letters across the front.

"What's WOMBAT stand for?"

"Wiz...Um." He looked up. "The BAT stands for Basic Aptitude Test."

"And the WOM?"

"I can't tell you."

"Percy! I have to take this test to get into your government. You could at least tell me the name of the test!"

"Can't, sorry. I'll tell you when you pass it."

"That's ridiculous!" She punched his shoulder again as she settled back. "Even my teachers tell me the names of the tests I take."

"I'm not your teacher."

"Shocker."

He glanced over at her and considered laying aside the paperwork and finding something more interesting to do with their evening, but had to concede to his more practical side that this really was more important in the long run. He stretched his fingers and settled back as the night wore on. It hadn't gone quite as he expected, and indeed he was still worried about what she might be thinking or what she might say, but she seemed to be consistently practical in thinking and action; if so, she ought to be able to handle the shock of another world. No, it hadn't gone as he'd expected, and he'd have to keep slowly working at it to bring her into their world, but it was a start. It was definitely a way to begin.

He looked over at her again without realising it. Only when she looked back up at him did he come to with an absent shake of his head.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"I do that quite a lot." He promised. "But only when I have to."

"Splendid." She groaned, slapping the papers on her knees. "We have got a long way to go."

He raised his brows and turned back to his work. She was absolutely right, and in more ways than one. "Well. At least we've made it this far. There would really be no point in throwing all of these papers away now."


	23. An Uphill Climb

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter. Still. **

**First of all, a very happy new year to all. Secondly, a big fat thank you to all the reviewers. And thirdly, a bigger, fatter I'M SORRY for not updating in so long. I know I probably have no readers anymore after that blip of abandonment, but...well. If anyone's still reading, here is...**

**Chapter 23: An Uphill Climb**

"Weasley!" The tired-looking worker behind the desk, name unknown, looked up from his heap of work as Percy entered. No doubt he had no idea who Percy was, but only knew that he was a ginger in the Ministry building, and therefore most likely to go by the name of Weasley.

"Yes." Percy cut past his introduction. "I'm here to inquire about intermagical applicants."

The worker looked blank.

"I hope you're familiar with the term." Percy said impatiently.

"Er...yes. Yes, of course, entry to the Wizard World."

"Are you taking applications?" Percy asked.

"Well, we would need to ensure that they have good reason, and they won't be a threat to society, plus that they won't out us, especially after the war events and such, we don't need them running around telling Muggles..."

"Are you taking applications?" Percy interrupted, putting pressure behind his tone.

"Er...yes."

"Good." Percy laid down the file with Audrey's name neatly scripted at the top. "There you are."

The worker looked down at it, then sighed and looked back up at Percy. "But see, it's like this, Weasley-your name is Weasley, right?"

"Get on with it. I've things to do."

"Yes, yes." The worker waved his chubby hands. "Look now, Weasley, with things the way they are, and all the trials going in and out, all the public work projects and all the criminals and complaints we've got to deal with, we're just swamped. I haven't taken an application for entry in two years, and I doubt I'll get to this one soon." He pointed down at the neat brown folder. "We at the Department of International Magical Cooperation are very interested in muggles and their needs, but at the moment, we have muggles to find, muggles to obliviate, muggles to investigate; Do you know how many Muggles got wind of Death Eaters? The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes is so swamped, we're taking half their work for them. The Obliviator office if going mad; We're still finding people who witnessed that hurricane back the other year..."

Percy glowered at him and cut off his stream of rambling. "Look, will you take the application or not?"

"I'll take it, but I won't be able to look at it for some time."

Percy knew what that meant. It would be filed away, put on a shelf, and forgotten. He couldn't blame the chubby, stupid worker; they did have greater things to think of. But he couldn't help his temper rising. "Very well, sir. Take it and see what you can do, when you can do it. Thank you for your time."

"Thank you for visiting the Department of International Mag-" Percy shut the door after himself before the paunchy desk worker could finish.

.

He closed the door after himself, wishing tonight was not his birthday. Audrey had insisted on doing something for him until he had had to tell her that he was going to his parent's home. She had fallen silent, then, understanding again the gulf between them. As awkward as it was, there was no denying that his life was something very different from hers, something...hidden. He knew she wondered about all the little differences, all the little 'quirks'. And there was the problem of apparition. She'd picked up on that several times, but hadn't said anything and was pretending it was all natural. But she studied things like these in her schooling, didn't she? She had to know better.

He dismissed the thoughts of her from his mind, insisting upon staying focused. Tonight was his birthday. A family dinner. He would need his head on tonight to deal with that.

He pushed out the door of his building and ducked out of sight, landing only a moment later on the familiar roadside. Turning, he straightened his glasses and his shirt and took in the sight of the Burrow.

There was the usual bustle when he pushed through the screen door, the familiar greetings. Charlie pounced on him and knuckled his head while Ginny threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, despite his never-ceasing requests that she not do so. She would leave lipstick on his face, and he resigned himself to it, again. "Hello, Ginny."

He was ushered into the kitchen to endure the hugs of the rest of the family. His father's embrace was still stiff; but then again, it always had been.

"Percy, happy birthday!" His mother enveloped him, and he hugged her back. "Mother."

"I remember when you were this tall." Bill chimed in obnoxiously, holding his hand a few centimetres off the floor. Percy glared at him as he and Charlie laughed. "Like when you were five and you wanted a new pair of glasses for your birthday."

"Because we'd already hidden all the old ones."

"Or the time we thought you were reading dirty books under the covers at night..."

"And it turned out to be an encyclopaedia."

"Or..."

"Anyways." Percy interrupted. "I'm hungry."

"Good, because I've made a special dinner." His mother said, moving away. Of course they all knew a 'special dinner' really didn't mean anything; Molly Weasley made a 'special dinner' nearly every other night, with all the family and company moving in and out of the Burrow.

Granger and Potter were there, and so was the Lovegood girl, wearing some sort of odd horns in her hair. Potter seemed to have rekindled whatever he'd had with Ginny before; at least, he couldn't keep his paws off of her, so that was what might be presumed was happening. Percy fought the urge to cringe openly as he shot a glance Ginny's way. She caught his look and smirked flirtatiously back.

Dinner with the family for once was a relief rather than a performance. The rest of the family was at ease, and Percy could slowly feel the tension sliding off his shoulders as the evening went on. He blended away into the crowd here. No matter that it was his birthday; the hubbub did not ease for anyone, and he liked it that way. Had this night been different from any other night, it would not have felt like home.

Percy agreed to a game of chess with Bill after dinner. His brother seemed preoccupied, and he won the game easily. Over the time spent staring at the pieces shifting in their small squares, both brothers fell into silent thought. Percy had a feeling that neither of them were thinking on the game. What was on Bill's mind he didn't know, but he knew for certain what was on his own.

Audrey's paperwork, put down as useless because they didn't have the time or energy to process it. She wouldn't be happy. He wasn't happy. He wanted to come clean with her, to tell her everything and know for once and for all just how interested she was. If she was going to despise and scorn him for being a wizard, he'd rather her do it now and not further down the road. He was already a little too deep into her to be able to pull back unscathed. And what would Lucy say...? He'd hoped he could just tell them and be out with it. Apparently, things were not that simple. But then, they never were.

He shoved a knight into position and let him deal with one of Bill's pawns. The light from the fireplace flickered over his brother's scars as he studied the board and Percy lapsed into thought again. If today was any indication of how things were going, he could already foresee some difficulties between himself and Audrey. As much as they both pretended everything was all right, it wasn't, and things would someday come to a head. He could just hope they could stay that off for a while longer...

.

_Audrey leaned against Percy as she studied the case file he'd given her. It was her father's, a copy of the final version of his folder. There were large sections blocked out, and sometimes entire pages missing as she flipped through. _

_"Percy?" _

_"Hm?" He was reading one of those thick tomes he seemed to prize so much. _

_"Where is the rest of this?" _

_"What?" He looked up, straightening his frames. _

_"There are words blacked out, and it's not all here." She flipped between two pages. "Twenty-six and twenty-eight. Twenty-seven is missing, and you know I've gone over this three times." _

_"Is it?" _

_"Where is it, Percy?" _

_"I'm hiding it from you." _

_"Why?" She looked back at the papers in her lap, picking up a picture of the crime scene and studying it. _

_"Because as you know, you're not supposed to have it." He told her, enjoying their closeness. "As soon as you pass the WOMBATS I can give it all to you." And that would have to suffice. _

_She scowled. He could practically feel it, even if she was facing away from him. "That sucks." _

_"Yes, it does." He ran his fingers down the lines of his book. She twisted around where she sat on his couch to look at what he was reading. "What are you reading?" _

_"One Thousand Herbs and Fungi." _

_"Percy, you have the day off." _

_"I know." _

_"That sounds...so boring." _

_He reflected on that for a moment. The loss of the word magical in the title did make a great deal of difference in the appeal of the book. But of course Audrey couldn't know the full title. Not yet, anyway. "Yes, it does. But I'm afraid that's how it's going to have to stay." _

_Audrey snapped the case file shut. "Let's do something else." _

_"Such as." _

_"Something that makes me feel smart for a change. Let's watch Star Wars." _

_"Are you...implying that I'm stupid?" _

_"You are when it comes to reality and real life." She told him, then winced as he raised his brows casually. "All right, that sounded harsh. What I meant was, all your knowledge is very abstract, very removed." _

_"Very removed." He agreed, then leaned forward to emphasize his point. "But that doesn't necessarily mean that it's not as wrapped up in real life as your information. We merely have very different lives." _

_"That's what I meant." She agreed uneasily._

_He shut his book and set it on the coffee table. "No, it isn't, but I forgive you, chiefly because you just admitted your own ignorance along with picking on mine." _

_"Well, as long as we're equal in our stupidity." _

_"We're not." He stood and stretched. "I know about both sides, and you only know about one."_

_"Both sides." She repeated. "What is that even supposed to mean? Two sides to the world?"_

_"Essentially." He shrugged. "You'll understand when you understand." _

_"And if I don't? What if I'm not deemed acceptable to take your tests, and what if I do take them and I fail? What then?" _

_"Well, then, it will have been a pleasure knowing you." Percy responded. _

_Her jaw dropped a little. "You would...?" _

_"I would." He didn't look at her. "As you say, I'm fairly removed. Really, getting along with normal people involves constantly lying to them on every topic. I'm not willing to waste time on those kinds of pointless relationships. Everyone I've interacted with in the past is just like me." _

_She shook her head, holding up her hands. "Are you talking about a government department, or a whole other country, Percy? Because more and more, it seems like the latter." _

_"I can't answer that." _

_She gave him a look. "You never can, can you?"_

_"Sorry." He shrugged. "Which is why I'm keeping your interaction with my family, specifically my brothers, to an absolute minimum." _

_"Because...?" _

_"Because I know they'd say the wrong thing and give it all up." He glanced at the round watch on his wrist. "Which reminds me that I've got to go see them sometime." _

_"Tonight?" _

_"Today. My mum insisted on having a family dinner. She always pulls us all back to the Burrow and then stuffs us with food, like it's some kind of growing ritual, for our birthdays..." _

_"Oh! Whose birthday is it?" _

_"Er..." Percy hesitated. "Mine."_

_She sat up. "Percy! It's your birthday and you have the day off, and you're doing paperwork?" _

_"Well, yes!" He shrugged. "I mean, you're here, and so it's not quite like work..."_

_She snapped her fingers for silence. "You should have told me." _

_"Why? It's a birthday. I have a birthday every year, it's not such a great deal..."_

_"Hush." She told him. "I don't even have anything for you." _

_"Well, I didn't tell you, so I obviously didn't expect you to." He told her. _

_"But I should." She leaned against his shoulder. "I'll have to come up with something for you as a late gift." _

_"I don't need one."_

_"Rejecting people's kind gestures does not endear you to them, Percy." _

_"Sorry." _

_"When do you have to go?" _

_Percy shrugged. "Mum will have dinner at seven, as always, so I'd probably better get there at around six. I could start getting ready at ten to six and get there easily." _

_She paused. "With ten minutes to spare?" _

_"Yes." _

_"I thought they lived in Devon." _

_"Er..." _

_She looked up at him. "I knew it. Your parents don't live in Devon at all." _

_"They, they do." He insisted._

_"Liar." She settled down again. "Go ahead and lie as you like, but know that I'm picking up on all of this, so you might as well tell me when you're lying and let me know that you can't tell me." _

_"That would never work." _

_"Why?" _

_"Because then we couldn't talk." _

_"Are you implying that everything you've ever told me is a lie?" _

_"No." _

_"Well, then." She gave him a look. "Do you want me to go so you can get ready to go to your parent's house, which is apparently within ten minutes walking distance?" _

_"No, it's only three now." He shrugged. "You don't have to go just yet." _

_Audrey looked over at him. "Then what shall we do with our remaining two hours?" _

_"Paperwork." He drawled._

.

Percy sat on the porch after dark, watching the Lovegoods fade into the distance, strolling along dreamily under the moon. A couple of crazies, they were, and whoever had invited them to his birthday party was not thinking of him...He shook his head as they disappeared, rubbing both his eyebrows and sighing.

Audrey had been a little annoyed with him that he hadn't mentioned it was his birthday; he could hear it in her tone. He knew that it wasn't that so much as it was the constancy of his silence. She was annoyed at not being told, not just about trivial events, but about anything. Her father, the WOMBATs, the whole damn world he lived in. Percy ran his hand through his hair as he flopped down outside.

This was not working out.

And you knew it, he chided himself.

But it had sounded so logical when Penny had argued it out. Where was the flaw? Logically, it ought to be working just fine, logically, Audrey ought to just hush and trust him and stop stressing him out. Where was the flaw?

He recognised it after only a few moments thought. The flaw was in intent. Penny had had an idea about their relationship; that Percy would draw comfort and healing from it. That had worked. What hadn't was that both of them had neglected to think of the other party in this equation; Audrey. Of course, Audrey had her own agenda. Penny had planned out the perfect taking relationship, ignoring that he might be asked to give something.

Or had she? Was that his omission?

Ginny appeared from nowhere behind him, putting a beer down at his side. "And what's the ray of sunshine thinking about?"

He smiled ruefully at her sarcasm, picking up the bottle and rolling it between his hands. "Nothing." He looked over at her. "You." He took in her appearance, wincing slightly at the beer in her hand. She was all grown up now, more than he liked.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here on your birthday." He told her.

She shrugged. "It wasn't much of a birthday."

"Sorry." He winced.

"I'm not blaming anyone." She shrugged. "Sometimes things are more important than people and birthdays. Dad and all of you had more important places to be than with me."

"I guess my gift wasn't much of a consolation." He glanced down at his bottle. Books had always been his gift of choice, whether he was giving or receiving them. He'd given her a NEWT study prep guide. "At least not next to that new broomstick from Bill and Charlie."

"Well..." She said sensibly, not finishing the thought. He ran his hand through his hair as her silence reassured him that his gift was indeed nothing next to the shiny new broomstick; she was simply to kind to say it at the moment.

"Well, well, you two are being gloom and doomers." Charlie commented casually as he emerged from the house behind them. You know," He dropped his muscled frame down beside Percy's skinny one on the stair. "You're the only person I've ever met who actually poops out at their own parties. Really. I mean-"

"Charlie." Ginny said in a no nonsense tone that was alarmingly remiscent of their mother's. Percy had a sudden vision of Ginny and Potter with kids of their own, Ginny turning out just like Mother.

"Sorry." Charlie winced, as if he were thinking along the same lines as Percy. "So, er, what is the problem?"

Percy wished he were Bill. When it came to asking for advice, he detested the thought of needing help from anyone. But Charlie was the least qualified of anyone, aside from perhaps Ron, to offer advice on his predicament.

"Nothing."

"Trollsnot. It's that girl, isn't it? The muggle one."

"What muggle girl?" Ginny looked up and between the two of them. "Hold it a second, what girl?"

"There are many muggle girls."

"Yes, but there's only one who's your new girlfriend."

"New girlfriend!"

"Charlie, hush!"

"Ginny, why don't you go inside. I'm sure Potter is missing his chewtoy."

"Charlie..." Ginny looked between them. "What's all this?"

"Nothing." Percy insisted.

"Potter is missing you."

"He'll be out here any minute, begging you to come in with him and disappear into a broom closet for a few minutes lively diversion."

"No, he's not, he's talking with Ron." Ginny said sharply before cuddling up too sweetly next to Percy. "So. A girlfriend? What's she like?"

"Ginny." All three turned. Potter was standing just on the other side of the screen door, gesturing to Ginny. "Could you come inside for a second?"

Ginny looked between her brothers as they both choked back laughter. "Fine, I'll be right there." She said before shooting Percy a look. "I want to hear about this later," She muttered in his ear before rising with a disapproving look at her elder brother. In a moment she'd rejoined her boyfriend inside.

"Dependent little bugger." Charlie snorted and took a long swig of butterbeer to cover his grin. "So. What's your muggle's problem?"

"Nothing."

"Let me guess. She's mad at you that you can't tell her all the things she wants to know about magic. Unless she's really stupid, she must have figured something is way wrong with you by now."

"Pretty much."

"So." Charlie nudged him with his elbow. "What are you going to do?"

"Do? What can I do? Legally, I can't tell her anything. She doesn't seem to care much about the law, though, she cares about what's right, and the two aren't necessarily one and the same. And..." Percy shook his head and turned his bottle in his hands. "Things have gotten way out hand with this. It was just supposed to be something that helped me get away from the world, get past...well, you know. And now it's all complicated."

"You like her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes." Percy mumbled. It felt stupid, he felt like he was twelve years old again, having to admit these things to Charlie. Except that when he was twelve, they wouldn't be talking, Charlie would be threatening to feed him to the gnomes unless he confessed his crush, and then he'd go off and publicize it...there were some advantages of getting older, then. Percy shook his head to clear his mind and sighed. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter. She's not mad; I'm not really sure she gets mad, but she's definitely getting close to having it."

"And then?"

"And then, she'll go get herself in trouble," Percy predicted, "And I'll find out about it, and I'll have to call you and the two of us will have to go dig her out again, like we did in Malfoy Manor. She's very self-reliant. If I don't give her answers quick enough or satisfying enough, she'll get them herself."

"She doesn't trust you."

"Why should she? I've given her no reason to. I'm basically leading her along blindfolded, promising that in a far distant fairy-tale someday, I'll let her understand, but not given her any indication or any hope of when that will be. I can't really blame her."

"Muggles." Charlie agreed. "Poor souls. You should have stuck with a witch."

"Oh, yes, whose suffered and watched the war tear her homeland apart until she can never properly heal and never trusts anyone again. Sure, that'd be so much better, thanks. God, no wonder you're single."

"Hey, no personal comments, I'm helping you here."

"Trying."

Charlie elbowed him again, and Percy gave him a wry look. "Look," Charlie said, "Unless Bill gets his arse out here, which I don't think he will, you're stuck with me as advice-dispenser. So."

"So." Percy hesitated. Charlie did know a lot about girls, or at least he had back in his Hogwarts days. He thought back to that afternoon, when Audrey had handed him her completed paperwork. She would be less than thrilled that it had been rejected. Maybe he could tell her tomorrow, instead of getting her the news right away, as she'd requested. She had been less than thrilled with him today, anyways. He'd scared her, he could tell, even though she had tried not to let him know it, and he'd tried to appear as rational as possible. "I think I kind scared her today, too. I mean, really. I told her...some things, and it kind of made her step back and re-evaluate all this. And me."

"What did you tell her?" Charlie asked, rubbing his hands and looking out at the moonlit lawn and the distant road.

"Some about Fred." Percy said, trying and mostly failing to sound nonchalant.

"You just told her about Fred? Just now?"

"Well, no, I told her that awhile ago, but..." Percy shrugged.

"But...?" Charlie prodded, looking from the landscape to his gawky brother. "But what?"

"Well, I told her some about Rookwood today, and..."

"Yeah, that was probably a mistake."

"Yeah." Percy said quietly. "It probably was."

.

_"How did you get by?" She asked, leaning her head on his shoulder._

_He made some mumbling noises in his throat and avoided answering._

_"I'm serious, Percy." She told him. "I never would guess...well, I probably wouldn't guess that you'd gone through a recent loss. I was a wreck, even months afterwards. I'd never lost anyone before..." _

_"Well, there you go." Percy told her. "I've seen people die, so it's...not as hard." _

_"Yes, but he's your brother." _

_"I know, and that brings with it the number of guilt feelings typical..." _

_"Why guilt feelings?" _

_Percy hesitated. "Fred and I weren't on great terms." He looked down at his hands. "I'd only resolved our problems a few hours before his death. I mean, if I had come back any later...It might have been too late, and then no one would ever have forgiven me. I could never have forgiven myself." He looked over at her. "And don't give me that You-Poor-Thing-You look, Audrey." _

_"Sorry." She clapped her hand over her mouth, then sat up straight again. "So how did you get by?" _

_"I made it up to him." Percy said, leaning his head back. "I made sure that I redeemed myself, did what was right by him. If I'd waited for that, either, it might have been too late."_

_"For what?" _

_He looked over at her nervously. "You're not going to like it." _

_"Try me." _

_"Audrey..." His voice took the serious turn that she'd begun to recognise as meaning that something deep, something bad was coming. "I was perfectly rational, in my right mind, I knew was I was doing, and I was...right." _

_"What did you do?" She asked. His stupid glasses were making him hard to read again, though she could definitely feel the earnestness of his attitude._

_"I got even." _

_She blinked. "You what?" _

_"I got even. I killed him." Percy's tone was as calm and natural as it could be. But inside, he was twisting his hands anxiously around one another. He looked down at her nervously. If ever there was a time for her to panic and run out, this was it. She was a good, little model-type daughter, not dark or twisted, and the farthest thing from bloodthirsty. He watched her expression and waited. _

_Her mouth hung open for a moment, then closed as she seemed to think better of responding. She'd looked surprised at first, then...then her expression morphed into too many modes to recognize. At last, she looked back up at him. "You...?" She didn't need a response. "What did it feel like?" _

_"Right." He told her. "It felt right. It was right." He was still waiting for the explosion. He didn't exactly look like the killer-boyfriend type, and he knew it. _

_"What about all that stuff about revenge not being right, or making you feel bad, or whatever it is they say?" _

_"That's bullshit." He told her. "It feels amaz...I mean, it's not bad." No need to go overboard and tell her every little detail. _

_"Wow." She seemed to find it more thought-provoking than frightening. Lucy's eternal calm had rubbed off more than either of them knew. She turned to stare ahead at the bookshelves. "You just killed him?" _

_"Pretty much." He crossed his arms and sat with her. _

_"And...Didn't you get in trouble at work, or anything?" _

_"The man was attacking a school full of children, Audrey, with intent to kill. I had every right; it was practically self defence." _

_"Oh." She said quietly. "How..." She looked down. "How did you do it?" _

_He looked down. "I'd rather not go into that." _

_"Percy, you can't just lead me on..." _

_"Audrey." He turned to her, using the tone again. "Really, Audrey this is...Look." He spread out his hands. "This is a lot bigger than just me and my brother. I know you've probably got that sorted already, and you probably have about a million theories as to what it all is, but...What happened that day was not just about me. There were other people, more important people. And it wasn't just about a school getting attacked. That's the simple version. It's very complex, and very covert. There was...so much at stake." _

_"And will I find out about that, too?" _

_"Trust me." He told her. "I'm having a hard time not telling you now. It's all very meshed in together." _

_"Why? Because I'm nosy, or because you plan on killing me later?" It was meant as a half-joke to hide that he was actually scaring her a little, but Percy didn't smile. He looked...grim. Gritty. She hadn't known that someone so proper and pristine could look quite so evil while sitting on a couch in clean clothes, in a clean flat and a clean world. She studied his appearance again. Somehow every time she looked at him he looked different to her eyes. She wondered briefly if she'd ever really know him, or would she be forever peeling back old layer and finding a new dimension, a new Percy? _

_"Because," He paused to answer her question. "Anyone who really wants to know me needs to know this. People say our history is what makes us, and that usually doesn't mean anything, but in this instance it does. It really does. If you even care about me enough to stay interested at all, you're going to have to deal with the fact that I've seen and done some ugly things, and I live in an ugly world." _

_"We live in a fallen universe." She murmured absentmindedly, an old mantra a teacher of hers had once drilled into his students. _

_"Oh, and also," He hesitated, "You'll need to deal with the fact that anyone who wanted to...get involved with me, would probably have to enter said ugly world." _

.

Percy twisted his beer bottle in his hands as Charlie sat beside him. "You just spit it out like that?"

"I did." Percy winced. "I...yes, I did. I mean, I wanted to tell her. I think she should know, I mean...Isn't it a woman's right to know that the man she's seeing is technically a killer?"

"Oh, sure, just terrify and mystify her forever, Perce. That's the way to woo a woman." Charlie gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up. "Real smooth."

Percy looked away morosely. "I know."

"No wonder. I'm surprised she didn't just leave straightaway."

"She might yet." Percy said drily. "And maybe that's best."

"Do you want that?"

"No." Percy said, looking down. Utterly stupid, the whole thing. He should never have gotten involved, but now he was. Now, he was attached to her, not in a dependent sort of way at all, but in a way that he had grown accustomed to having her about to talk to or pass the time with. He looked down at his hands, his beer now empty, as he thought on it. She was nothing special, nothing he couldn't get over. He could get over anything, and he knew it. He had proved his own internal strength to himself before, and he still was today. But for the amount of time they had been together, the entire matter was growing alarmingly close to heart.

**A/N: More to come, I promise. I'll try to keep up with posting one chapter every two weeks from now on. If anyone is still reading this, thank you! **


	24. Confrontation

**A/N: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 24: Confrontation**

Percy kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thank you, Mother."

She hugged him fondly. "Happy Birthday, Percy." She tugged Charlie close. "Going home?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Don't splinch yourself."

"I won't. Bye, Mum." He tugged on his ubiquitous dragon-hide jacket and followed Percy out the door.

"Isn't George coming?"

"No." Charlie said, shaking his head. "He's going to Angelina's place." He gave Percy a telling look.

"Oh."

"Uh-huh." They continued in silence for some time. Charlie coughed.

"So, uh, Perce, could I ask you a question?"

"What?"

"You seem to be pretty into this girl of yours." He caught Percy's glance and rushed on. "And that's good, I mean, it's about time. But it seems like you only want her around because she helps you forget about the war and...stuff. And...I'm not really sure that's good."

"And why wouldn't it be?" Percy felt his hackles rising, and had to take a breath to keep himself calm. He couldn't blame Charlie for what he didn't know. Charlie didn't know what Percy had done during the war; and that's the way everyone liked it, wasn't it? "Don't you think I hurt a little bit during the war, too?"

"I know, I know, it was hard for you. And I'm not saying it isn't, but wouldn't that make you come closer to us, not farther away? I mean, did you ever think of just coming to one of us when you need help?"

"That's ridiculous." Percy gave him a look.

"Why?"

There was a long pause as Percy tried to think of an answer. He had to have an answer. He always had an answer. He was logical. "Well," He said to buy himself time.

"Well...The reason is that we're all too busy. We're rebuilidng the country and taking care of each other, and..." His voice trailed off. He was cringing inside, a part of him wishing he had told someone about his wartime doings, but he hadn't, and to go back and spill all now would be nonsensical. "...And since I didn't do much during the war but sit in an office, my problems are trivialities compared to those of others. It's about prioritizing."

Charlie gave him a suspicious look. "Sure."

Percy cleared his throat uncomfortably. He'd often wondered what would happen if his family stumbled upon some stashed-away file, with his arrest warrant and his records. His mother would be furious with him. No, secrecy was best. What they didn't know wouldn't keep them up at night. "Audrey, on the other hand, is relatively carefree. She doesn't have to deal with the war to such an extent."

"Yeah, but how can she help you if she doesn't know your problems?"

"She knows some. I have to be careful here, Charlie." Percy pushed his hands into his pockets. They were just walking, aimlessly, along the road, and he considered apparating for a moment, just to escape the conversation. Charlie would probably follow him. "Any other pieces of wisdom you'd like to share, big brother?" He asked, looking down at Charlie.

Charlie glanced up at him, shrugging into the dark. "It sounds like you've got a pretty complicated situation going on, Perce. And I have a feeling I don't know the half of it."

"Never trust your feelings."

Charlie rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Want my advice? Stop trying to make it so complicated. Just...go with it."

"Go with what?"

Charlie thought about that for a moment before finding a response and turning to Percy. "Go with your gut. If you don't let us help you, and can't let her help you, most of your issues are going to be your fault. Loosen up. Go with your gut."

"Go with my gut." Percy repeated.

"Yes."

Percy mulled the words over in his mind. Strange words, but advice was advice, wasn't it? "Right. Well...I'll see you later. Thanks."

"Sure." Charlie's face broke into a grin. "You're welcome, little brother.

"Little from you is a bit much." Percy said pointedly, looking down at his sibling.

"Was that a height joke?"

"Good night, Charlie." Percy said, masking just how grateful he was for someone else to talk to and share with. In a moment he'd apparated away and was standing near his own apartment building. He mounted the stairs, sighing, and pushed open the door, then stopped at once.

His door was unlocked.

He stepped back and checked the simple green door. The muggle locks weren't done, but they never were. But the wards and spells, the protective bubble over his residence, was gone. He'd just walked through it, hadn't felt it, hadn't had to disarm it.

He pushed open the door curiously. "Penny?" He called.

There was a dark head leaning against the back of the couch, but it wasn't Penny. Percy's brows rose as he recognised the much darker, straighter hair of Audrey.

"Uh..."

She turned, looking up from the book she'd been reading, and smiled as she set it aside and rose. "Percy; I hope you don't..." Her smile faded. "Who's Penny?"

"No one." He said, looking around curiously, not really looking at her. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long; I thought I might come over, if you didn't mind, and...Percy?"

He was looking past her. "Is...anyone else here?"

"No." She was looking at him blankly. "Percy?"

"How did you get in?" She didn't undo the wards. She couldn't have undone the wards. But his secure assortment of spells was down. Someone else had to have done it. Oh, surely she hadn't just walked through an entire field of defensive spells again!

"Oh, the landlady gave me a key. I told her I was a friend, and she unlocked the door for me. She told me to ask after you brother..."

Percy gave her a look. Key? A muggle key?

"But then I got up here, and the door was unlocked." She watched him as he eased into the kitchen, looking around. Was Penny playing a prank? There was no way any of his family could have got here before him and undone the spells for a joke. Not with her around. "Percy, there's no one else here." She said a little louder, trying to regain his attention.

He held up his hand as they looked around the kitchen and he started for the kitchen. "Um...go back to the front room. I'll be right there."

"Percy..." He left her standing in the kitchen beside the counter, and moved on into the bedroom. He cast a few spells, but there was no one in the bedroom. No one in the bathroom. No one in an invisibility cloak, under a disillusionment charm, or hiding anywhere. He moved back to the kitchen, now vacated, and tried several spells there, to no avail. Audrey was the only person here. Someone had come in and undone his spells, and either that person was gone now, or that person was Audrey.

He looked suspiciously back at Audrey, sudden memories of Mr. Crouch coming to mind. Of other men, under either the Imperius or the Polyjuice.

"Audrey."

"What?" She asked crisply, looking up at him from where she sat. "Is everything all right?"

"Er, yes..." Think of a question, think of a question, something only she would know. "What was the name of that shop where we met, the first time we met to talk about your father?"

"...Spiderhouse Cafe." She regarded him strangely. "Why?"

Percy sat down next to her, perplexed.

"Percy, who were you expecting to be here?"

"Someone who could have gotten in." Percy told her. "I cannot believe one of my brothers would be so callous..."

"Someone like Penny?"

"Yes, exactly! I'm pretty sure she has something else going tonight, but..." He looked over at her. "Wait..."

"Who's Penny?" She prompted, gesturing for him to go on. "You never mentioned her."

"She's a friend. A friend...who has a key." He admitted with a little shame. "I thought it must have been her who dropped by, but...It's not, so..."

"Too bad, it's only me." Audrey shrugged.

Percy ignored the slightly jilted tone of her voice and tried to regain his thoughts. Audrey thought he was bonkers, plus someone, somehow, had come into his home, undone all his spells, and left them that way. There was a strange tone in Audrey's voice, a curious tightness to her words, but he couldn't diagnose just what it was, and really didn't have time anyways. He was more worried about potential Death Eaters having come in and stolen some of his work. Or his hair, to use for a polyjuice. Should he report this to the ministry? And what was he going to do with Audrey in the meanwhile? Why was she here anyways?

She was leaning back, looking away at his books, letting him think. She was annoyed, testy, and was pretending that she wasn't. He fought the urge to be annoyed at her ignorance, and cleared his throat.

"So...what's going on?"

She looked back at him. "I dropped by; I wasn't sure if you'd be tired or not, but it's your birthday, and I thought I might make up for not knowing about it before."

"Well, you didn't have to." He told her, the words coming out more brusquely than he'd meant them to. "I mean, you couldn't help not knowing."

"True." She agreed, turning towards him again. "I guess you've had a long day; You want me to go?"

He glanced around the apartment, feeling the wards he'd just set up. "It might be best; I have a few things to do."

"Sure." She got up quickly, and he realised a little too late that she was probably offended. What had Charlie said? Something about going with what he wanted.

Well, he wanted her to stay here and for things to be all fixed, but that wasn't going to work, since he, a ministry employee, had just had a major security breach, and he, as a ministry employee, needed to make sure that there wasn't any danger. He had known and met a lot of unsavory characters during the war, like Burke or Vanderburg, and he knew that not all of them had been caught. And they would know that he had been working in the Ministry, against the Ministry. He'd been warned, as everyone had, that old associates could come back any day for revenge, Dark Lord or no Dark Lord.

This could be a matter of life and death. Not necessarily his, either.

She was leaving.

Percy stood as she collected her purse, torn between wanting her here and needing her to get out of the way, trying to remember what Charlie had just said to him a few minutes ago. Terrible advice, if he couldn't remember it.

"Audrey, wait." He burst out.

She paused and raised one eyebrow expectantly.

"Wait, wait..." He lifted his hands. "Look, I just have some work to do."

"Did you get your new position, then?"

"New position?"

"Yes, the one you were supposed to get reassigned to after you closed my father's case."

"Er, no."

"Is is my paperwork, then? Is there work to be done on that?"

"...No."

She waited, then went on. "So...you don't actually have any work to do."

"Well, not that kind of work, but I have...something else I have to do. Now. So..." He lost his train of thought as she stood there, looking like she didn't believe him. She actually looked a little angry. More than a little.

"So, I'll just go and you'll do whatever it is you do when I'm not here, right?"

"Yes." He realised too late that was meant in sarcasm. "I mean, no." Bloody. This wasn't working. Not working, not working...He took a breath and looked back at her. Could it wait until tomorrow? Would it? Possibly. Would she? Possibly...not.

This wasn't rational. This was not how he operated. He pushed down his reason, crossed the distance to her, tugged her close, and kissed her once. "Audrey."

She looked surprised beyond belief, but she didn't pull away as he held her. "Yes?"

He wasn't sure how to proceed from there, but if Charlie's advice was to 'just go with it', then that's what he would do. "Look, I'm not lying to you. I promise, that as soon as all your paperwork gets through, I will explain everything to you and it will make sense. Everything will make sense."

"Everything?" She wasn't buying it, but at least she wasn't cross with him anymore.

"Yes."

She sighed. "And how long will that take? How long until my paperwork gets a go-ahead?"

He paused. "It may be a little while longer." He couldn't tell her, no matter how truthful and rational it was, that her paperwork was denied. Now what? "But I am working on it. Just some departmental switches going on, but once I pull the right strings it'll get done." He kissed her again, just for good measure. "And you don't mind waiting, do you?"

"It's not the waiting that I mind, it's the lying. It's the not-knowing. Either about my father, or about you."

"Oh." he could sympathise with that, and he was flattered that he'd been put on the same level with her father, who she cared about so much.

She looked down and he relished the silence. The situation was diffused, at least for the moment. Granted, there was still a chance that some murderer was creating a polyjuice potion with his hair, stolen from his apartment, but...that was rather far away right now. For the moment, he had his arms around Audrey, and she wasn't leaving.

"So am I staying?"

"Definitely. It is my birthday."

"Hm..." She distracted herself, coyly avoiding his eyes by pleating his shirt with her fingers. He let her, waiting for her to look back at him.

"So, you're family is all done with you?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, will they be dropping by? They seem quite present most of the time."

Percy had to admit she was right, realising how glad he was that they were so present. "Well, yes, but no. They are quite present, and they're not dropping by all night unless something goes dreadfully wrong." He had just set up new wards, with new accesses. Even if his family did come by, they wouldn't know how to disarm the spells and get in. "And why do you ask?"

She raised her eyes to his and he could read her smile behind them, even though she didn't smile with her mouth. She was on the verge of responding when something fumbled at the door.

Before Audrey could draw breath Percy had released her and taken three steps to the door, peering out the tiny peephole into the dimly-lit hallway. Annoyance was spreading from his mind to the tips of his fingers, all wanting not to have been interrupted at the moment.

Penny was outside, and she was apparently trying new spells against his wards. Percy stepped back from the peephole, his annoyance still simmering.

For a long moment he stood undecided, then glanced back at Audrey, who was still standing by waiting. Making up his mind, he waved her back into the kitchen and reached for his wand, casting the few simple spells to protect his flat. Yanking the door open, he took Penny by the arm and pulled her inside, putting the spells back up as he moved.

"Percy." Penny and he shut the door together. "I know you're probably upset about the wards—"

"Was that you?"

"Well, yes, but I was in a hurry..."

"Penny, you scared me half to death...Wait. I need a security question."

She gave him a look. "Percy, the War's over, no one does security questions anymore. Don't be so silly."

"Hush. Why're you here? Now?"

"It's your birthday. I came by earlier to see you, but you'd already gone, and when I was going out, I found your Audrey coming up the stairs, and so I left the wards down so she could get in. She is gone now, isn't she?"

"Who?"

Both jumped and turned to find Audrey leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching them. She gave Percy a cool look and then turned her eyes to Penny. After a moment, her expression changed, and became puzzled.

"Audrey. Hi."

"Um..."

Percy hastened to introductions, before Audrey could jump the wrong conclusions. Judging from her face, she was already suspecting something was amiss with the strange, attractive other woman who had access to his apartment at night. "Penny, this is Audrey, my girlfriend." The word sounded strange on his tongue, and Penny's grin belied that she, too, was amused. "And Audrey, this is Penny. She's a family friend."

Audrey looked between them. At last she gave a nod. "Yes, we've met."

"...You have?"

"Audrey, it's so good to see you again." Penny pushed past the redhead and took Audrey's hand. "Ethan said you'd been busy lately, so I'm so glad we ran into one another."

"Who's Ethan?" Percy said with alarm. They apparently knew one another, and it wasn't through him. Unless, that is, Penny had done something inexplicably stupid.

"Davis." Audrey said without taking her eyes off Penny. "Yes, I'd hoped to see you soon, too. What a surprise, to find you here..." And here her eyes slid over to Percy, giving him a look that was more than a little accusing.

"Davis? What?"

"I didn't know you and Percy were friends."

"Oh, yes. You know, he mentioned that he'd gotten a girlfriend, and she sounded absolutely superb, but I never thought of you."

"Wait." Percy cut between their chatter. It was all pretence, anyways. Penny's eyes told him all he needed to know. She was the only one here who knew what was going on, and that, to him, was more than a little disconcerting. He knew Penny, and her plans usually involved something very clever and something he wasn't so sure about. "You know each other?"

"Is that a problem?" Audrey seemed to have found an ally in Penny as they both turned to him.

"Yes." He told her frankly, before turning to Penny. "Miss Clearwater?"

"Mr. Weasley." She gave him a look back. "Why would it be a problem that we know one another?"

"Well, you both know one another, and you both know me, so it might seem a bit suspect that none of this was ever mentioned to me. Penny." This was Penny's fault, he knew it. He should have suspected when he hadn't seen much of her lately that something was up. She was a Ravenclaw, wasn't she?

Penny waved him off. "Ethan and I have been going out, didn't I mention that?"

Percy stared at her for a long moment before looking at Audrey again and then back. "Just one moment." He promised, seizing the witch's arm and pulling her back to the front hall beside the door. "What is going on?"

"Ethan and I have been seeing each other lately." Penny told him.

"Seeing each other? Davis?"

"Yes, Percy, Ethan Davis. He's American, he likes it when people use his first name."

"You've sunk to _this."_

"Percy!" She scolded. "Ethan is a good guy. I like him. Besides, if you can have muggle girlfriend, why can't I have a muggle boyfriend? Don't you think_ I_ need to get away from the Wizard World sometimes, too?"

Percy rubbed his eyebrow. "Penny, I just had him obliviated. Don't make me do it again."

"Tsh, I've been careful. I'm a Healer, not a Ministry Worker. And Ethan is a man. Men like to talk about themselves, so I don't have to say much. Plus, I'm muggle-born. I'm much better at getting along in the Muggle World then you are."

Percy gave her a hard look. "And the fact that you picked Davis is just...coincidence?"

"Of course not. I was starting to worry about this girl of yours. What were her motives? So I tried to plan an accidental meeting with her, but I ran into Davis instead, and..."

"You did what?"

"Percy, don't pretend you weren't concerned, too. I was worried about her motives. Now normally, looking after your personal life would be the job of your family, but since you obviously have reservations about trusting them, I considered it my job to make sure she wasn't just into you for her own gain. You're hurt enough as it is."

"I can handle that myself!"

"No, you can't. Were you a _normal _male, you would have admitted your doubts and taken them to your father long before now. You would have asked for guidance from him. But you're not a normal male, since you and your father are still awkward, and since I know that you _can't_ take care of your problems yourself, I helped. But I didn't ask your permission because I knew you would...well, you would do this."

"So you went in to investigate my girlfriend, and walked out with a date of your own?"

"I did."

Percy rubbed his eyebrow again as she watched him.

"You know how this makes me look?"

"I know."

He told her anyways. "It makes me look like a...like someone who keeps more than one woman around. And you had to come just now, didn't you?"

"Why?" She raised her eyebrows. "Were you two in the middle of something?"

"Shush."

"If you wanted me to _shush_, Percival Weasley, you might not have dragged me over here. Now this just looks worse to her, and you know it. You'll have a lot of explaining to do once I'm gone."

"I wouldn't have any explaining at all if you'd just told me what was going on. Or better, let me deal with my problems on my own!"

"Which you can't do."

"Let's not go over this again."

.

Audrey stood where they'd left her.

Penny. She ought to have known something was up when he couldn't tell her about his work, couldn't tell her much about himself. She'd suspected that there was something going on when she wasn't going on, that he had a more-than-professional reason for keeping her at a distance, and now she knew.

She crossed her arms against the chill in the apartment, looking hard at the wood floor. Yes, she'd been stupid all along.

But Penny? Davis' new girlfriend? He'd be heartbroken. Every time she'd seen him since he and Penny had been together, he had been practically glowing. And Penny had seemed like such a nice girl...

What was going on here? Her boyfriend, Davis' girlfriend, together behind their backs. It couldn't be a coincidence. Unless Penny was also part of this secret government thing with Percy, and...yes, that made sense. It was right after Davis had gotten involved and gone to the Manor with her that he'd forgotten about his old girlfriend, and become suddenly so wrapped up in this new girl, this Penny Clearwater.

For the thousandth time, Audrey was unable to wrap her mind around what Percy truly did. Something with government. Something very odd, very inconsistent. Very secret. Several times in the back of her mind a voice had whispered that Percy knew how Davis had lost his memory. Percy had made Davis lose his memory. The little voice had a few times suspected that just maybe Percy's government had done something to Davis' memory, something abnormal. Some sort of...hypnosis. It would certainly fit with his fixation on Penny. If she'd used some mind trick on him.

But each time she'd silenced the little voice, as she tried to do now. Mind-tricks? Memory-erasing? It was a ridiculous concept, not solid or verifiable enough for a learned student of maths and sciences such as she was. She had known that of course there was a very rational explanation for it all. For everything that was inconsistent about Percy.

Now, standing alone in the kitchen with their hushed whispers just reaching her ears, she wasn't so sure. The numbers of odd coincidences were piling up in front of her.

They shared a world she didn't know about, she realised as she strained to catch their words. They clearly knew one another, knew a great deal about one another. Penny knew all the things that Percy had to lie about to her. For the first time, a little jealously sprang up inside her, which she quickly buried. She didn't want to dislike Penny. The fault, she guessed, was going to lie with Percy. She leaned closer to try and hear what they were saying, out of her sight.

"...you get to know him well enough, he'll suspect, and then we'll have to take him back to the Ministry and give him to the Obliviators all over again!"

"Don't be ridiculous! You've told Audrey reams more than I've told Ethan. If anyone in this situation were to be Obliviated, it would be her!"

Audrey drew back quickly, tried to stop listening. Obliviate? What they'd done to Davis? She looked around, taking stock of the situation. Percy and his other girlfriend were talking about erasing her mind. She needed to get out of here. She wouldn't let them do to her what they'd done to Davis, not in a thousand years. Never. Percy's usefulness had obviously run its course.

She moved quietly to the other end of the kitchen, which opened up to show the bedroom door on her left side and the front room on her right. The front of the apartment was set in a circle; if she emerged into the front room, Percy would see her, where he stood by the front door, and then he'd send her straight back to the kitchen while he and Penny decided what to do. She waited on the other side of the divider that separated the front room from the kitchen.

Why not just go? He was standing in front of the door, but if she acted calm enough, he might prefer to get rid of her and deal with her later. Surely he wasn't going to keep her here; he wasn't sinister, he was just doing his job.

She decided on her course of action and took the few steps toward the couch, snatching up her bag and the book she'd been reading, not really looking at what was in her hands.

The whispering stopped as soon as she came into view, shouldering her purse. "I'm leaving."

"Wait." Percy held up his hands. "Wait, I can explain."

"I know." She told him, nodding, only wanting to go home. "But it's late, I should go. I'll see you...later." She sidled past him, expecting him to try and stop her again. He didn't to her surprise, and she reached for the door. Before she knew it she was outside in the corridor, and Percy and Penny were still inside together. The door shut behind her and she started blindly for the stairway.

.

Penny didn't say anything for a long time after Audrey had gone. She glanced back at Percy, and he recognised the apology in her face. He knew he looked rather like he felt; tired and deflated.

"I'm sorry, Percy. I'll talk to her, when I can."

"It's fine." It wasn't, but there wasn't much else to be said. Audrey's fragile trust in him was now snapped; Nothing short of a full entry into the Wizard World was going to lure her back. He needed to talk to Davis soon, see what he knew. He wished this had all happened several weeks ago; he'd been promised his new Ministry position soon, and when he did, he really wouldn't have time to deal with personal problems.

"Do you know where Davis is?"

"I believe he's studying."

"I'm going to go see him."

"Percy, wait." Penny followed him as he summoned his jumper and reached for the door.

"What?" He shut the plain green door after himself and started for the stairs.

"Davis is a really nice guy when you get to know him; please don't Obliviate him."

"I won't, but the Obliviators might."

"Percy, you know what I mean." They were heading down the stairs.

"Did you tell him anything he needs to be obliviated for?" He asked her, stopping on the stairway.

"No."

"Then he won't be oblivated." He began to descend again. "The law is pretty simple, Penny, if there's a problem, we'll fix it, but if there isn't, you don't need to ask for leniency." He didn't hear her heels clacking on the staircase, so he knew she'd stayed on the landing and watched him go. What her plans were, he didn't know. She wasn't coming with him, but she couldn't go back to his flat. She'd probably go home and worry. Penny worried often. He let her do as she pleased, too concerned with his own job to deal with her or Audrey at the moment.


End file.
